Draco's Redemption
by The Enchanted Quill
Summary: Sometimes the road to redeem one's self is not quite what they imagined.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Hello guys! This is my first attempt at writing a short story. Reviews are much appreciated! :)

* * *

**_Draco Malfoy looked over the grounds of Hogwarts. The view from the Astronomy tower was spectacular; from there the Quidditch field seemed miniature. The goal posts the size of a knut. He sat at a small table set with a lovely tea service._**

**_"Sugar?" Albus Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkled._**

**_"Please."_**

**_"It's a beautiful day," Albus sighed._**

**_Draco nodded and took a drink from his chipped cup. The two sat for a silent spell, simply enjoying the sunshine and the bird song._**

**_"You know, Draco," Albus said after a moment, "it's not too late."_**

**_Draco sighed. Not this again, he thought. He should have known there was an ulterior motive to the tea._**

**_"I can't."_**

**_"You won't," Dumbledore corrected, "but you can."_**

**_Draco did not pursue the argument. They had had it several times before always with the same outcome; Dumbledore would be unable to convince Draco to go and Draco wouldn't be able to explain to Dumbledore why it was impossible for him._**

**_Draco offered a crooked smile in response and picked up his cup. Suddenly, his sleeve caught fire. He screamed and the delicate cup broke upon the flagstone at his feet._**

He woke from his dream and sat up on the bed he had been sleeping on for the last twelve hours. His right hand was pressing onto the burning sensation on his left forearm where he was marked. The summons would grow more painful the longer he took so he moved quickly. Hastily, he pulled on his clothing and left for the Grand Hall.

It had once been the main room for entertaining when it still belonged to the Malfoy family. Now, the room had little resemblance of what it had been. While the furnishings were the same, they had been shoved aside and sported the wear and tear of the dozens of Death Eaters that had been using the room with little consideration for the tasteful furniture.

Draco hated this room. Yet he was forced here more often than any other place in the manor. As hard as he tried, he was unable to keep his eyes from wandering to the centre of the room to the Persian rug. The remnants of scorch marks were still visible.

The House Elves could have removed the marks with their magic but Voldemort would not allow them to. He wanted the marks there as a reminder of the power he had over his minions. It was an effective plan for it never failed to remind Draco of that awful day.

**_He had been dragged from the dungeon cell he had been kept since that fateful night he returned to his Dark Lord. Light from the windows hurt his eyes but he was taken to a darkened room where Voldemort waited. Draco saw his mother as he was led before the Dark Lord. Her expression confirmed that he looked as awful as he felt. He wished he could have given her some reassuring words. He had not seen her since he escaped from Hogwarts._**

**_Too weak to stand, he crumpled before Voldemort. He bowed his head upon the rug, its woollen fibres scratchy on his forehead. He trembled, uncertain of why he had been brought forth before Voldemort. Would he be punished? Given a second chance? Killed?_**

**_"I hope you've had ample time to consider your situation," Voldemort hissed. "Tell me, boy, why should I allow you to live?"_**

**_Draco was speechless. He honestly did not know the answer to the question. He wasn't sure he wanted to live. His silence was interpreted as insolence and he was suddenly struck with the Cruciatus curse. Burning trails raked his skin as if several sharp blades had sliced it. He could not hold in the screams nor the sick that came up from his gut._**

**_"Answer me!" Voldemort demanded._**

**_The curse was painful under any circumstance but even more so when one's body had been weakened. Narcissa could not bear to watch her child being tortured. She broke free of Rodolphus's clutch and rushed to cover her son to protect him from the spell. Draco felt his mother tremble under the effect of the curse as she clung to him tightly. Furious at the spectacle, Voldemort lifted the hex and stormed over to the pair lying on the floor. With disgust, he kicked the woman and she fell beside her son._**

**_"P-please, m-my Lord," Draco's voice was barely audible but he gathered what strength he could to speak. "G-give me the chance to correct my mistakes!"_**

**_Voldemort laughed. "I cannot afford mistakes, young Malfoy. You have proven yourself as ineffectual as your father."_**

**_"He's a child!" Narcissa begged, unable to contain herself._**

**_The Dark Lord glared at Narcissa Malfoy. How dare she speak out?! His fury flared and he spat the killing curse without a moment's hesitation. Draco, stunned, could not move._**

**_Voldemort turned back to the boy. He could kill him now and be done with it, however, deep down in the recesses of his warped mind he knew he needed as many able bodied wizards he could find to fight on his side. He stooped down and grabbed Draco by the ragged collar of his filthy robes and pulled him upright, level with his red eyes._**

**_"Do not rely on others to save your skin," he hissed at Draco. "It's made you weak!"_**

Since that day, Draco ignored the sadness that threatened to eat away at his heart, the anger that burned in his gut and the logic that tore at his sanity. He pushed it all aside and acted devoid of thought or emotion in order to survive. He had thought it could get no worse.

His thoughts were interrupted by Rodolphus Lestrange's baratone. He listened vaguely; raids were usually unorganized events. The only planning involved was to pick a location, wreck havoc and get out quick. The goal was to instill fear. They were seldom given any details.

Lestrange stood before the assembled Death Eaters as they gathered. He wore his Death Eater mask which Draco would have found humorous if he was still able. Why cover your face when you were surrounded by other Death Eaters? Why wear a mask at all? What of the pride they spouted at being pureblooded? Why not show your face?

Draco hoped the raid would be a minor one with no targets. He preferred to go and get these things done as quickly as possible. He was sorely disappointed.

"Kill as many as possible," Rodolphus ordered. "There will be many enemies there. Kill anyone you can, the exception is Harry Potter."

The group Apparated to a residence before a docile scene of people gathered for a wedding.

* * *

Fleur was a beautiful bride; her Veela genes made her ethereal. She donned a delicate gown which seemed to float around her as she walked down the aisle to meet her husband to be. Bill beamed at his bride. His face still handsome despite Greyback's marks.

It was a gorgeous summer day with a vivid blue sky. It seemed as if time and the outside world ceased to exist; as if the Wizarding world was not at the beginning of a war. The only reminder was the absent guest; Albus Dumbledore loved weddings.

Ron Weasley reached for Hermione Granger's hand and grasped it in his. She smiled. In that moment it felt as if everything was right in the world. An adorable little girl no more than four or five, bored with the ceremony, turned around in the seat before Hermione. She was dressed in pink robes and her blond pigtails were tied with matching pink ribbons. Hermione smiled at the girl who returned the smile shyly.

Suddenly, a scream shattered the scene. Turning back in their seats the guests saw the unthinkable; Death Eaters with their wands out. Chaos erupted instantly. Hermione and Ron knocked over the white wooden seats as they stood, brandishing their wands. Hermione searched for the boy who was really Harry Potter but could not find him.

"Focus!" she told herself.

Draco was shaken from his stupor by the shrieks, flashes of red and green, the smell of smoke. Like the raids before, he found himself lost in the chaos. He had considered running a few times but fear always stopped him; running would only make him a target for both groups.

He would remove himself from his surroundings and retreat inside his mind, as if watching as a spectator. He dived into the skirmish, deflected a hex and dodged another. He was nearly hit with a hex but managed to dive out of the way.

Surveying the scene to get his bearings, he saw his aunt Bellatrix duelling with one of the female guests. He did not recognize the girl at first for she was not dressed in school robes. She was wearing a dress, her calves bare, her hair tied prettily up on top of her head; Hermione Granger. He watched as she was struck down with Cruciatus as his insane aunt cackled as she writhed in pain upon the grass.

Once his goal had been to cause Hermione anguish and best her in any way possible. He had loathed the girl. Now that hate seemed so petty. Funny how one's perspective can shift.

A Death Eater near Draco fell to the ground. He looked at the masked man, wondering who it was. He didn't know. He didn't care. While they hid behind masks, their victims were exposed. Suddenly, he saw familiar faces everywhere.

Remus Lupin, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Mrs. Weasley dragging her daughter who struggled valiantly to stay and fight. They were all fighting to protect their friends while he fought to save himself.

He recalled the night on the tower when he faced Dumbledore with his wand. He had not been able to kill the man he had known for years. Suddenly, a shriek of anguish cut through the noise and disrupted his thoughts. He turned toward the sound and saw Hermione, kneeling on the ground beside a body. A shock of ginger hair identified him as one of the Weasley's.

"NO!" Hermione sunk to her knees beside Ron's body, her wand slipping from her hand as she stared at his body laying on the grass. His dress shirt had been slashed and blood was quickly turning the white shirt red. She knew of no healing curses so she clutched at his chest but the crimson liquid only oozed between her fingers.

"RONALD!" she sobbed. One moment she had felt his reassuring back pressed against hers and the next moment, he was gone.

"RON!" a boy who Draco didn't recognize yelled and ran toward the fallen boy.

Time slowed as he surveyed the scene. Kingsley Shacklebolt tried to stop the boy but his grasp slipped and only managed to wrap around air. The boy was struck as he ran toward his friends. He fell slowly to the ground with a confused look upon his face as if he didn't believe he had been cursed. He fell heavily, face first, into the bright green grass.

The signal was given by Rodolphus to flee and Draco finally moved. He tripped and fell onto the ground. He looked to see what he had stumbled over and froze in shock; on the ground lay the small child in pink robes. She lay pale and still, her blue eyes staring blankly at Draco.

* * *

"Brilliant!" Gregory Goyle handed Draco a Firewhiskey. "Did you see the looks on their faces?"

Draco nodded and thought of the little girl's blank stare. He took a swig of the whiskey and was glad of the burn down his throat. He finished his Firewhiskey and took another. By the time he left the celebration he had lost count of how many he had managed to down.

He could barely walk straight, bumping into furniture on the way to his room. Once Draco reached the loo, he wretched and collapsed on the cold tile floor. He covered his eyes and broke into sobs. The image of the little girl kept appearing in his mind's eye.

How did it come to this point?! He didn't want death. Not for himself, not for his old Headmaster, not for his mother and certainly not for some child who could not possibly understand the reasons of war.

He'd had enough death.

He stood, shakily, and returned to his room. He dumped the contents of a rucksack he hadn't used in ages and began to fill it quickly with hardly any thought to what he was shoving inside. He stopped, pausing as his mind cleared. He could not just walk out of the manor. He had to make a plan.

* * *

Hermione woke shivering and pushed herself up, underneath her hand the floor was cold and gritty. Her body ached for she had been lying there unconscious for several long hours. There was very little light as she surveyed her surroundings. A torch flickered on the other side of a wall of bars.

Slowly she crept to the bars to peer outside. She was unable to see anything but a stone wall on the other side. She sat quietly to listen but there was only silence. She debated whether to call out. She retreated to the back of the cell and huddled in a dark corner.

She gathered the torn layers of tulle of her pale pink dress trying to cover her bare legs and feet from the chilly damp air. Her mind replayed the attack; the chaos of the guests running, flashes of hexes flying through the air, Ron falling to the ground bleeding, Harry running to help only to be struck-

How could they be gone before they even had a chance to begin their quest? Her eyes filled with tears. One moment it seemed that life was perfect and the next moment it turned into Hell. How many others died? She didn't want to think of it but her mind wouldn't let her think of anything else. She closed her eyes and slept.

**_There were people smiling all around and she wore a bridal gown. She stood next to Ron who held her hand._**

**_"If there are objections to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace," Harry asked._**

**_There was a pause as Hermione and Ron smiled at one another lovingly._**

**_"I OBJECT!" someone yelled. Everyone turned to find Draco Malfoy standing amongst the invited guests. He was dressed in his Hogwarts uniform and held his wand aloft. "Avada Kedavra!"_**

**_Harry and Ron collapsed to the ground at Hermione's feet and she began to scream. Her beautiful white gown covered in blood._**

* * *

The following day Draco emerged from his private room, his head pounding from a combination of too much firewhiskey and not enough sleep. In his search for some remedy, Vincent and Gregory found him and managed to corral him.

"Did ya' hear?" Gregory asked.

Draco shook his head, not caring to hear the news the boys had. It couldn't be good.

"They're saying that Potter's been killed!"

"When?" Draco asked, shocked at the news.

"They said that he was at the wedding in disguise "

"Polyjuiced," Vincent added helpfully.

"And that he was killed in the raid!"

Draco was speechless.

"And, Granger's in the dungeons!"

Draco turned to them in disbelief.

"It's true!" Vincent agreed. "I heard Macnair and Lestrange discussing it this morning!"

"Why?" Draco asked, genuinely curious.

"Seems that the Dark Lord thought she might make an interesting study," Gregory answered.

Draco looked perplexed so Goyle continued.

"Well, he thought they might conduct some experiments to see how mudbloods get their magic-"

"And," Vincent continued, "see if there's a way to exact it."

"Extract, idiot."

"Yeah, that's what I meant, extract."

Draco nodded; a vain attempt at showing interest in the news. In truth, he didn't feel one way or the other. While he had been surprised to learn that Granger hadn't been killed outright, his head was hurting too much to think on it. Besides, he had a plan to work on.

"Wanna go see?" Vincent asked Draco. "Me and Goyle we're on our way."

Draco paused, almost declining. It would be easy enough to lie to the two but he realized he wanted to see if she really was there. Also, he wasn't certain that Goyle and Crabbe knew of his own incarceration. If they knew, he didn't want them to think he was afraid to return to the dungeons.

It seemed at first that perhaps the dungeons were empty; there was no one guarding the cells and the first few were empty.

"Maybe they moved her?" Goyle suggested.

"Hang on," Crabbe said and cast the Lumos Maxima charm with his wand.

As they reached the last cell the light fell onto a lump in the back corner. She was dressed in a light colored dress with voluminous skirts that were covered now in dirt and torn. Her shoulders were bare as were her feet. Her hair in disarray, half of the tresses tucked on top of her head while the other half loose. She looked like a doll, abandoned and forgotten.

Hermione sensed their presence and woke from a light sleep. She turned to the boys.

"Have you come to kill me?" her voice was raw from her tears.

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged wide eyed looks. Draco only stared.

"Well?" Hermione asked, almost sounding like the girl they knew from Hogwarts.

"No," Draco answered.

"Please," she whispered.

"She's gone mad," Vincent whispered.

"Come on," Gregory said.

Vincent followed him but Draco held back a moment, unable to tear his eyes away from Hermione's.

"Blimey, she's barmy!" Vincent said loudly now that they were free of the dungeons.

"Well, what'd ya' expect being all cooped up in there alone?"

There was suddenly an awkward moment when it seemed that all three remembered Draco had spent time in the dungeons. Of course, no one said a word and the subject was quickly dropped.

Visiting Hermione seemed to have affected all of them; Vincent and Gregory had gone quiet and soon Draco made up an excuse to leave them. He returned to his private room, any remote appetite he had had was gone. He lay on his bed and covered his eyes with his arm, hoping at least to rest.

It was no use. His mind was racing. He had to get out. He needed a place to go and he needed money.

He had to find a way to attain both as discreetly as possible. Nothing came to him; only images of Hermione Granger sitting in a filthy cell in the dark and all alone.

Was it possible that not so long ago the thought would have filled him with joy? The know it all mudblood put in her place. He'd even had fantasized about it and the fun he would have. Now the image made him ill. He couldn't help but recall his own Hellish experience that night he made the mistake of returning to the Dark Lord.

He was led away and through the familiar halls of his home. He was taken to the very rear of the house where he knew the entrance to the dungeons were located. He had not stepped into that place since he was a child when he, Crabbe and Goyle would dare each other to go down into the dank darkness by themselves.

Once, he and Goyle closed the door when Crabbe had made his way down. They shut the door and ran, laughing at their joke. Poor Crabbe had become hysterical and couldn't even open the door to let himself out. Draco had been punished severely.

He was led down the narrow stone steps into the darkness. The Death Eater's wand light was barely strong enough to light their way. He was led to the first cell and the iron gate was wrenched open; scraping the dirt floor and its hinges screaming.

Draco was pushed inside where he fell to the ground. The doorway slammed behind him and soon he was enclosed in darkness as the Death Eater left with the only source of light. Draco sat down with his back against one of the stone walls, his mind reeling.

How did he end up here? It seemed unreal. A few short months before he had been boasting to his friends about the mission the Dark Lord had given him. They had been so impressed; Goyle, Crabbe and Pansy. Now he was a prisoner in his own home!

The silence was thick and heavy. Soon his ears picked up subtle sounds; the scurry of little feet, a scratching noise, the slow methodical drip of water somewhere. He wrapped his cloak around himself tightly against the cold and the fear.

The moments he spent alone in the cold darkness stretched on and on. His mind replayed the events of that day over and over despite Draco's attempt to squelch them.

**_He saw the Carrows entering the Come and Go room followed by Fenrir Greyback who growled as he passed Draco. Draco's stomach clenched as Greyback sniffed the air and seemed thrilled to catch the scent of so many children. Draco had not been expecting the werewolf and knew that things had gone from bad to worse. The rest of the events happened in a blur. Once the action was set in motion they seemed to pick up pace and there was no way to stop them._**

**_It wasn't until he was face to face with Dumbledore that time seemed to pause. He was able to breath; to think. He found Dumbledore's words filtering into his mind and tempting him. He knew long ago that he would be unable to kill the man no matter how desperate he was._**

**_He could go, they would help his mother, his father was still locked in Azkaban. They could hide until this was all over. His arm began to tremble. The Carrows suddenly burst through the entry to the tower and Draco knew he had lost his opportunity._**

**_He stared into the blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore while the others jeered him on. Suddenly, Snape joined them, his wand pointed at the Headmaster who begged for his life. With his face full of disgust, the Potions Master cast the Killing Curse. Draco watched in horror as Dumbledore fell from the edge of the tower._**

**_"RUN!" someone yelled._**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This part contains some graphic description of icky stuff.

* * *

The following day, Draco retreated to his father's study. Like all rooms of the manor, it had been taken over and used by Death Eaters. He had already been by earlier in the day but found several people inside the room. Now it was empty and he took the opportunity.

He went to a shelf behind his father's massive mahogany desk and skimmed the titles of the books along the bottom shelf until his eyes fell upon the volume he was searching for; a biography of Merwyn the Malicious.

"Hello, Nephew."

Draco jumped at the sound of his aunt's sickly sweet tone. He recovered quickly and stood.

"Aunt Bella," he greeted her formally.

"What have you got there?"

"Just some light reading."

She looked at the book, her eyebrows furrowed. "Merwyn the Malicious?"

"It's a laugh."

She nodded. "We missed you at dinner," she spoke conversationally. Draco immediately became suspicious. Had she been looking for him? Why?

"Oh? I lost track of the time."

"You must be starving!"

"I had a late lunch."

"You haven't been eating much these days."

"That's not true, I just eat at odd times."

"Don't you like our company?" Her tone was teasing but her eyes were serious.

Draco chanced a look at his aunt, protecting his thoughts. "What's not to like?" he teased back and added a smirk.

"Well, just know that you can come to me if there's ever anything on your mind," she touched his arm briefly and smiled, "now that Narcissa is no longer with us."

Anger burned within his gut and flashed for a moment in his eyes before he could contain it. Bellatrix smiled. "Oh, did you hear the news about our little hostage?" she asked.

"You mean Granger?"

"Yes, the filthy mudblood. She's in the dungeons, you know."

"I know. Crabbe, Goyle and I went yesterday to see."

"Did you?!" she seemed pleased. "I was thinking of paying her a visit myself, have a bit of fun, you know?"

She scrutinized his reaction but Draco was flipping through the pages of his book, still fuming over his aunt's heartless statement of his mother.

"You should join me," Bellatrix continued, "I'm sure there were plenty of times you wished you were able to hex the mudblood while at Hogwarts!" His aunt's tone grew excitable.

Bile rose within his throat and burned on its way down. He returned his gaze to his aunt, smiled, and answered, "absolutely."

"Oh goody!" She clapped and jumped up and down. "Shall we go now?"

"I can't," he answered calmly, hoping to keep a cool facade. "I promised Nott I'd meet up with him." He lied smoothly.

Bellatrix did not respond at once; she seemed to be waiting for something more. Had she caught him in his lie? Was she trying to get inside his thoughts? He remained passive, patiently waiting for his aunt to say something.

"All right then," she pouted. "Another time." She smiled sweetly and left the room.

Draco released a long breath once he was alone. His heart was beating too fast. She was suspicious.

She was watching him. He wasn't safe. He tucked the book inside his robes and left the study in search of Theodore Nott. What if his aunt came across him? Panicked, he searched several rooms until he found him. He approached him leisurely.

"Hey, Nott."

"Draco! To what do I owe this great honor?"

"Get stuffed. Have you seen Bellatrix?"

"No, thank Merlin," he said under his breath. Draco smiled. It was no secret between him and his friends that his aunt was a bit of a nutter.

"Fancy a drink?"

"Of course. Lead the way!"

The two met up with Blaise Zabini, Goyle and Crabbe. For a little while it almost seemed as if they were not in the midst of a war but just friends hanging out. Draco was relieved when Bellatrix came in and found the boys drinking and laughing.

He wondered if she had gone down to the dungeons to have her fun with Granger. She had been in the dungeons three days now. What had they been doing to her? He shook the thoughts from his head and focused on the glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. Three hours later Draco, drunk again, stumbled back to his room where he once again crashed upon his bed and fell asleep fully clothed.

It wasn't until the morning when he had sobered up after some food that he was able to look at the book. It was no ordinary book of course. It had been spelled to hold within it whatever you wanted as long as the object was smaller than the book.

Draco cast the secret spell and opened the book. Instead of the pages he had flipped through the day before, now the cover opened into a box. Inside the box were several gems. He pocketed the stones and returned the book to its original form. When he had the opportunity, he could cash in the gems for money.

Draco had to bide his time while waiting for the opportunity to cash in the precious stones. What he was going to do after that, he wasn't entirely certain. He knew he had to move quickly now that his aunt was keeping an eye on him. The urgency of the situation made itself apparent when he was cornered by Bellatrix.

"There you are, Nephew!" she greeted him with a sacharin smile and wrapped her hands around his arm. "I've been looking for you!"

Gregory, who had been with him, decided it was time to leave. "See you later, mate."

Draco wished Goyle hadn't been so spooked by Bellatrix. Now he was alone with his aunt.

"I thought you could join me this morning and visit our little mudblood," she spoke cheerfully, as if Granger were staying in one of the guest rooms.

"I don't have the time"

"Oh, Draco!" she pouted. "It's almost as if you were afraid to see her."

"Don't be daft, why would I be afraid of her?!"

"Well, I don't know. I would have thought you'd be itching to get revenge, put the little chit in her place."

"Believe me, I would love to," he lied. "But I'm afraid I'd get carried away and kill the girl. I don't think the Dark Lord would forgive me that."

"You needn't worry about that. I won't let you get too carried away," she smiled sweetly. "Besides, Mangela has begun his experiments! We can see what he's been up to!"

Her eyes sparkled with excitement and Draco was unsure he could refuse her again. He decided that he would have to go. Perhaps it would alleviate some of her suspisions and buy him some time? He schooled his features and smiled at his aunt.

"Well then, lead the way."

Bellatrix beamed at him and lead the way to the dungeons. Draco hoped to run into Nott or Crabbe or anyone who would either pull him or Bellatrix away. Unfortunately, they reached the dungeons with no interruptions. Draco felt a queasiness in his stomach which he hoped he could control.

The narrow staircase was dimly lit by a torch as the two made their way to the bottom. Instead of heading straight ahead toward the cells, Bellatrix turned left and went to a large room. Brightly burning torches lined the walls and illuminated the room. In the center was Mangela, a Death Eater Draco had met once before.

Mangela was an expert at healing wounds. This was because he enjoyed developing new hexes and potions for torture. He was very good at what he did. He was creative and took great pleasure in his work. He was a thin man who wore thick spectacles. He turned as he heard them approach.

"Bella, darling!" He greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. "So nice for you to come visit!"

Draco blanched at the blood splattered apron the man wore. Behind him Draco could see that Granger was laying on an examination table.

"I'm always interested in your work!" Bella gushed.

"And who is this?" Mangela asked turning to Draco.

"This is my nephew, Draco."

"Ah, Narcissa's boy." He shook Draco's hand.

"Yes," Bellatrix answered and put an arm around his shoulders. "I'm trying to fill the void."

Draco's anger flashed and he longed to throw her arm off his shoulder. Instead, he kept his temper sensing that his aunt was goading him into a reaction. She was testing him with all this and he knew he had to pass.

"Well, you're in good hands, my boy! Your aunt is one of our Lord's closest advisers."

"Show us what you're up to!"

"Well, I'm only just starting so I haven't got very far."

The man moved aside so that Hermione was in clear view. She still wore the tattered dress from the wedding. She lay perfectly still and Draco wondered if she had been frozen. Her eyes were open though they didn't move or seem to recognize their voices. She seemed to be in a trance.

"I've extracted some of the blood and will begin by comparing it to other samples." He held a vial containing a deep red liquid. Draco's stomach lurched and he looked away. He never realised he was so adverse to blood.

"Why, it's not mud at all!" Bellatrix laughed hysterically at her little joke. Mangela chuckled.

"I was just about to take another vial," Mangela explained while he set down the sample and picked up a rather nasty looking object. It was quite sharp but didn't resemble a knife so much as a pick of some sort. Casually, he stepped over to Hermione's prone form and pierced the palm of her left hand.

Draco jumped as Hermione cried out and tears leaked from her eyes which were now shut tightly.

"There's a good little mudblood," Bellatrix cooed as she petted Hermione's matted hair.

Draco felt slightly flushed as he watched blood spurt from the end of the tool Mangela used. It was hollow so that the blood poured from the end into an empty vial. It took several moments for the vial to fill. The whole time Bellatrix stood over Hermione. Hermione continued to squeeze her eyes closed.

Once the vial was filled, Mangela dropped Hermione's hand carelessly onto the table top, the metal tool still protruding from her hand as blood leaked out. After he carefully sealed the second vial and labeled it, he pulled the tool from her hand and cast a healing charm to stop the blood.

"What will you be doing next?" Bellatrix asked.

"Well, this is all very new research. There's no protocol. I thought I'd extract some brain samples next."

"Won't you have to kill her for that?"

"I don't believe so."

"How do you get samples of one's brains without killing them?" she asked, clearly fascinated.

"I use a similar tool as the blood collector. I drill a hole in the skull, not very large, just big enough to insert a metal tube. It simply cuts through the brain matter and retrieves a sample to"

Draco felt the blood drain from his head and suddenly the room began to spin. His knees weakened and he fell onto the stone floor. Both Mangela and Bellatrix watched in shock. Suddenly, Bellatrix laughed.

"Oh my," Mangela said as he helped Draco to his feet. "Someone has a weak stomach."

"Sorry," Draco apologised for some reason and dusted himself off. He kept his eyes from Hermione.

He knew she had heard every word and knew what was coming.

"Will you be needing the mudblood any longer?" Bellatrix asked once she had calmed herself.

"No, I'll need time to examine and compare the blood samples. You can take her if you'd like."

"Splendid! Draco and I thought we'd have some practice."

"I've developed a new potion as well," Mangela stated. "Perhaps you can test it?"

"Of course, I'm always happy to advance the study of magic!"

"Good girl! I'll get the potion for you."

Bellatrix released the binding spell that held Hermione and then cast another hex that caused a spot on her dress to catch fire. Hermione screamed and fell from the table, smothering the flame with her dress. Bellatrix laughed at the sight.

"Knew that'd get her up!" she winked at Draco.

He managed a weak smile that his aunt seemed to accept. Hermione sat crumpled upon the floor,sobbing.

"Up, little mudblood!" Bellatrix singsonged and waved her wand again. This time Hermione stood and began to dance, twirling in circles. The sight disturbed Draco; a sobbing dancer in a singed and torn dress while his aunt cackled merrily and spun around herself. He had never fulled appreciated his aunt's insanity until that moment.

"You're turn!" Bellatrix sang and she released the spell. Hermione fell again into a heap on the floor, exhausted and breathing heavily.

Bellatrix waited for Draco to act and for a moment he was at a complete loss at what to do. He recalled a jinx Pansy had been struck with in their fifth year and he cast the antler jinx at Hermione.

The weight of the antlers was too much for Hermione's weakened neck and she slumped forward, the antlers hitting the stone floor with a thud.

"Good show!" Bellatrix clapped her hands with joy. "Engorgio!"

The antlers on Hermione's head grew in size and she screamed in pain.

"Good one," Draco said but immediately ended the curse and the antlers disappeared. He cast another spell that turned Hermione's skin blue.

"Borring!"

Bella sang. "Let's try something a little more interesting, shall we?" She flung the next hex with zeal and suddenly Hermione clutched her stomach and pain etched her face. Draco didn't recognize the hex but knew the game had changed. Bella couldn't be entertained without inflicting some pain. He had to think quickly.

He cast a stinging spell. His aunt simply rolled her eyes.

"If you aren't going to play properly, you may as well leave," she drawled.

Right then; the testing continued. He aimed his wand at the girl.

"Crucio!"

Hermione squirmed as the spell struck her. He tried not to show any panic as he watched. He knew the spell would be very strong if cast without pure intent but Hermione was weak. She rolled on the floor and looked at him with watery eyes. They pleaded with him silently to end the pain. He looked to his aunt who watched with amusement.

"Not very original, Nephew but effective," she praised him.

Their game was interrupted by Mangela. Draco released the curse upon Hermione at once.

"Having fun?" Mangela smiled.

"Of course!" Bellatrix smiled.

"Here's my latest"

"Oh, let me see!" Bellatrix stepped forward and took the glass bottle from his hand. She held it up and admired the fluid inside which changed from yellow to orange in swirls. "It's warm!"

"Yes," Mangela smiled proudly. "I haven't decided upon a name yet but I'm leaning toward Liquid Fire."

"Sounds delicious! What does it do?"

"It hasn't been tested yet but I believe that if a small amount is consumed, it would feel as if one's internal organ were set aflame."

"Does it do any damage?"

"No. That's the beauty of the potion. It's purely harmless except to one's psyche."

"Perfect for interrogation," Draco observed.

"Exactly, my boy."

"May we test it now? On the mudblood?" Bellatrix asked.

Mangela looked at the girl who was now sitting up on the floor, clutching her knees to her chest and breathing heavily. "I think we should test it another day. I fear the other hexes might interfere with the effects of the potion."

"Tomorrow then!"

"Yes, perhaps."

Bellatrix giggled like a little girl promised to be taken to the circus. "Then we shall see you tomorrow!" She handed the bottle back to Mangela and turned to Draco. "I'm feeling a bit peckish."

Draco nodded.

"Why don't you be a good boy and put the mudblood back in her cage, hm?"

"Yes, Aunt Bella."

She smiled and patted his cheek before heading out. Draco tucked his wand inside his pocket and stepped over to Hermione. She flinched as he approached. He scooped down and gathered the girl in his arms, surprised and slightly horrified at the lightness of her.

"Kill me," she pleaded.

"What?" he whispered, despite himself.

"If you have any decency, you'll end my suffering."

What could he say? If he killed her Voldemort would be furious. Perhaps he could make it look like an accident? Could he take her life even if was to save her from more suffering?

He reached her cell and stooped to place her on the ground. She grabbed his robes and held them with all the strength she could gather. Her dark eyes pierced his light ones as she begged.

"They'll kill me eventually, Draco. Please!" she sobbed.

Draco felt extremely uncomfortable. He pulled her hands from his robes and left her on the floor. He closed the iron gate and locked it. His chest hurt and he could bear no more. He turned and left her.

"DRACO!" she screamed.

His eyes began to sting as he climbed the stone steps back to the place that used to be his home.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione screamed his name again and again even though Draco had left. There had been a moment when he looked at her that she thought he might grant her wish. Even though fear gripped her, she still believed she could be reunited with her love and best friend. However, Draco merely pulled her hands away from his robes and walked away.

He ignored her pleas and she was alone again. She regressed into infancy, safe within the mother's womb. She gathered the scraps that were once a lovely dress and curled up into herself oblivious to the grit rubbed into her cheek and arm. She rocked herself and sang a lullaby her mother had sung to her.

She was terrified of what would happen to her. What horrible experiments would Mangela induce on her? How many Death Eaters would hex her for entertainment? How much suffering could she endure before her body gave in? Would her mind give before then?

She knew the chances of being rescued were slim and that all she could really hope for was a quick and painless death. Her parents would never grieve for her; they were oblivious to her existence. What would happen now that the Chosen One was gone? Was it even possible to destroy Voldemort?

Her sobs grew quiet but her tears continued dripping onto the ground. The wounds on her palms, though healed, still ached. Her body sore from the hexes she had received. She wondered what curse Bellatrix had struck her with that made her stomach feel as if were being twisted and pulled. She wondered when she would be exposed to the vile potion Mangela had produced.

Would Malfoy come to observe her torture? Some how she doubted it. She sensed he had not enjoyedthe game as much as his aunt was. The first spells he cast had been painless, humiliating, but painless.

Bellatrix had even noticed and taunted him. While the Cruciatus curse had been painful on her weakbody, Hermione knew it was not as horrible as it could be. Bellatrix had struck her with it before and she knew what it could be like.

Perhaps that's why she asked him to end her suffering. He had lifted her from the ground and carried her to the cell. He could have easily used Mobilicorpus but he carried her. It seemed such an odd thing to do. Malfoy willingly touch her? Her tears had finally stopped as she contemplated Malfoy's actions. Eventually, she drifted off into sleep the lullaby still playing in her head.

**_She was dancing in a dress with layers upon layers of pink tulle, her hair loose and hanging down her bare back. She was smiling and dancing with a partner as Professor McGonagall counted off; one, two, three! one, two, three! as they waltzed._**

**_Viktor Krumb stood at the periphery, scowling at the couple. __It was then her dream partner was revealed, Draco Malfoy._**

* * *

Draco had left the dungeons and made his way to his room, ignoring the few people he passed along the way. The sound of Hermione's voice yelling his name reverberated in his mind all the way back to his room. He could feel the desperation in her voice. He recalled the pain in her eyes.

It wasn't is fault! He was being forced into to do these things! His life was at stake! He had already lost his mother. As he tried to gather his thoughts, Hermione's screams were replaced by Dumbledore's words from the night on the tower when he offered Draco a choice.

Of course, Draco had made his choice. He choose to push aside his feelings and stay. He had been too afraid to leave. But now all those walls he had carefully constructed to protect him were crumbling down. Waves of fear, anger, and sadness crashed down upon him. He would surely drown soon. He could no longer be a part of this.

He checked his pocket and felt the reassuring lumps of the precious stones. He would find Crabbe and Goyle and ask them if they wanted to go to Diagon Alley. He'd make up some excuse. Once there he could easily loose them, exchange the gems for money and take the Floo somewhere.

He had to leave. Now. He wouldn't be able to hide his true feelings much longer and once Voldemort learned the truth, he would kill Draco as easily as he had taken his mother's life. Maybe he would have him tortured first as an example to others. Perhaps Voldemort would hand him over to Mangela to experiment with like Hermione.

He saw her in his mind's eye huddled in the cold dark corner of her cell waiting for Mangela or Bellatrix or some other Death Eater to use her for sport. He understood her fear, her desire to escape even through death. He couldn't leave her.

He ran his fingers through his hair, clutching and pulling at the strands to alleviate the pain pounding in his skull. His heart was beating so hard in his chest it was painful. He checked his pocket again.

How could he leave with Granger? It was impossible!

This complicated things. For a fleeting moment he wondered if he should kill the girl before he left.

At least then she would not suffer any more. However, he didn't think he could find it in him to deliver an effective Avada Kedavra. If he managed to get her out of the cell... if he could open the cell. Surely Mangela would have strong wards protecting his study.

Draco felt sick. It would be easier to leave her behind. What would he do with her anyway? She would have to find the Order of the Phoenix on her own. It would be best for everyone if he just granted her wish. It would be quick and painless (he hoped) and he would be free to leave. At least he wouldn't leave her to suffer.

He sat for a moment on the edge of is bed reviewing his plans. It seemed to be the best way. He noticed the clock and saw that it was nearly dinner time. He thought it best that he make an appearance tonight and keep up appearances. He'd have a few laughs with his mates, make sure to be seen by Bellatrix, maybe even swallow some food in the process. It'd probably be a good idea.

The dining hall in the Malfoy Manor was a large and regal affair. The table could hold up to forty guests. This evening, like most, the table was nearly full as the House Elves kept a dinner schedule.

The small elves came into the massive room with plates upon plates of food and large pitchers of drink.

Draco eyed the seats and noticed his aunt seated next to her husband. The two were in conversation and didn't notice Draco enter the room. At last Draco spotted Theordore seated across from Blaise. He pulled out an empty chair next to Nott.

"Hey, mate," Nott welcomed.

Blaise nodded a greeting. Draco helped himself to the food and attempted to eat as he joined in the conversation. He had drank a glass of Elf wine rather quickly and was working on his second glass when it occured to him that perhaps he should not get pissed.

At one point during the meal his eyes caught his aunt's. She was watching him. He smiled and held up his glass to her. She raised hers in response and smirked. He felt as if he had gained some of her trust back within the last few hours.

After the meal he was dragged into the front sitting room where once his mother and father greeted guests. It had been a stuffy, uncomfortable room and he associated it with long, boring conversations.

He had memories of sitting on the stiff furniture wearing scratchy clothing and trying not to fall asleep while the adults discussed the many dull topics that adults did. It didn't improve as he grew older for then he was expected to participate in the dreadfully dull conversations.

Gregory, Pancy and Millicent joined them. Blaise and Gregory started up a game of Wizard's Chess while the others watched and talked. As the minutes ticked by, Draco grew more aggitated. The longer he waited, the less likely he would be able to get his hands on a Portkey that evening.

That would mean waiting another day. It was as if Voldemort himself would appear and announce that he knew of Draco's plans. He imagined the Dark Lord hitting him with Avada Kedavra and being killed instantly. He realised that Granger would be alone and there would be no one to help her.

"Oi! Draco!" Vincent called.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Just wonderin' where you'd gone off to." He, Millicent and Pansy giggled.

"I'm tired," Draco answered and even managed a yawn. "I'm off to sleep."

The group nodded, said their good nights and returned to their tasks. Draco left the sitting room and went to the Great Hall where the older members usually congregated in the evenings. He was pleasantly surprised to find Snape in conversation with Yaxley and looking utterly bored.

Snape was not a regular fixture at the Manor, though he found refuge there after he killed the Dark Lord's nemesis. Eventually, Snape had to return to Hogwarts to take over the Headmaster's position.

Draco was relieved to find his old professor and approached him.

Snape lifted his head as the boy stood by his seat.

"May I help you?" he asked in his familiar drawl.

"A word, Sir?"

Snape got up from the chair and went into the hall with long strides. Once outside he turned to face the boy, his face a mask of indifference though he seemed to have aged a few years in the last few weeks.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if I could get a Portkey."

"Late night rendezvous?"

"It's for tomorrow, Sir. I need to go to Dia "

"No need to explain." He looked around the hall until he spotted an object that would suffice. It was a candle holder made from Goblin silver. The thing was nearly priceless. Draco wondered if he'd be able to exchange that for money as well.

Snape waved his wand over the object and recited the charm to create a Portkey from the object. He handed it to Draco. Draco reached for the object, thanking his former Potions instructor when Snape pulled the object away. The two stood for a moment in silence, eye to eye.

Draco forced his mind to focus on the apothecary in Knockturn Alley.

"In need of potion ingredients, Draco?"

"Yes, I'm running low on Mandrake solution."

"I'm glad to know that you're still brewing your own potions."

"Of course," Draco smirked. "I learned from the best."

Snape rolled his eyes and once Draco took the candle holder, the older man turned back to the Great Hall. Draco watched with some amusement before he pocketed the Portkey and headed toward the dungeons. He worked out the scene in his mind. He would deliver the curse and activate the Portkey.

It was simple; one, two. He could do this. He must. It was the only way.

He retreated down the stone steps, listening carefully. The dungeons were dark with one sole torch burning at the bottom of the stairs. Draco was surprised there wasn't a guard in sight. He moved quietly, his wand held aloft. He hoped to find Granger asleep. It would be best if she was asleep and unaware. Perhaps she is dreaming...

He ceased his internal dialogue when he heard something. It was so faint he had to stop and listen carefully. It was a voice, Granger's voice. Was she talking to herself? He moved closer, able to hear the words now.

"... pretty baby, do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby. Cares you know not, therefore sleep, while over you a watch I'll keep. Sleep, pretty darling..."

His heart clenched but he forced himself to continue. Soon he was on the other side of her cell. His eyes had adjusted enough to the dark and he was able to make out the pale dress that she still wore as she sat in the far back corner, rocking and singing. He listened.

"...do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby... Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, smiles await you when you rise. Sleep, pretty bab " The singing stopped. "Draco?"

He didn't answer but stood before her, his wand directed at her.

"Go ahead," she implored, "please, Draco."

His hand began to shake and his head filled with memories of the night he faced Dumbledore. He hadn't been able to kill him despite the consequences. The same seemed to be true now. He broke down, lowered his wand. His hand covered his face, tried to cover his shame. Hermione crawled over to him, stood and reached for his arm.

"It's alright, Dra-"

"Stop!" he snapped.

"Please," she begged, her tears coming again.

"I can't," he whispered so quietly she could hardly hear the words. "I'm sorry."

He turned away and left so quickly she barely had time to react. Her only hope had fled. She sank to the floor and cried.

* * *

Draco returned to his room and paced the floor, making up excuses for his failure to act. He turned over various plans in his mind, considered going back in the middle of the night when she might actually be asleep. He fingered the silver candle holder which weighed down his pocket and wondered if perhaps he should use the Portkey and just leave. Granger wasn't his problem! Then why couldn't he bring himself to do it?

Eventually, after some late hour, Draco lay down to rest his eyes. Soon he fell asleep and tumbled into troubled dreams. He slept deeply and was awoken by thunderous knocking on his door. He bolted upright and glanced around his room, confused. He was still dressed and the sun was already brightly shining through his window.

He saw the time. Merlin's beard! It was nearly noon! He got up, groggily, and answered the door. Gregory and Vincent were standing on the other side.

"Blimey, mate! We thought you were dead!" Vincent teased.

"No," Draco answered. He was annoyed that he had fallen asleep and it was so late already. Surely Mangela had begun his work for the day. "What'd you want?"

"Snape said you're off to Diagon Alley," Gregory explained, "thought we'd join you."

"There's nothin' to do," Vincent grumbled.

Draco panicked for a moment; what was his plan anyway? Kill Granger, escape. That was it. He could loose Crabbe and Goyle easily enough. Wait, would he be able to get to Granger first? Was Mangela conducting his experiments on her? Shite!

"I can't stay there."

"Com'on, mate. You hardly go out. You're always cooped up in your room."

"People are sayin' things," Vincent added.

"What things?!" Draco snapped.

Vincent shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "You know, things. People just think it's a bit weird how you haven't been around much and after that thing with Dumbl-"

"No one knows!"

"Listen, mate," Gregory interjected, "we get it. Really. It's just that not everyone does."

"I don't give a flying fuck what others think!" Draco lied.

"You should," Gregory warned. He nodded and left with Vincent.

Once again, panic filled Draco. He had to leave and he had to take care of Granger, one way or another. He headed to the dungeons with confidence he did not feel, his robes bellowing behind him.

Snape would have been impressed. He saw Pansy Parkinson and tried to bypass her without being seen.

"Where're you off to?" she asked.

"Looking for Bellatrix," he lied. "Have you seen her?"

She shook her head, looking a bit alarmed that he was actually looking for his aunt. He knew Pansy would leave him alone if he was looking for his aunt. It was also good to know that she wasn't around.

Soon he approached the dungeons. Sweat trickled down his back as he made his way down. He could not turn back. He nearly stumbled down the steps when he heard a scream. His heart began to pump harder and he fled down the rest of the stairs quickly. He turned to the left and saw the large room where Mangela had set up his make shift laboratory and saw the room awash in light. He stepped inside.

Mangela was standing and observing the effects of his latest potion, Liquid Fire. Hermione was laying atop the examination table, magically bound by her wrists and ankles. Draco watched in horror as she writhed, her skin an unnatural shade of red, sweat beaded on her skin and her hair damp with perspiration.

She struggled to free her arms and legs not caring that her tattered dress was in danger of revealing too much. Draco noticed his aunt staring in morbid fascination at the scene before her. At long last, Hermione ceased struggling, her body exhausted.

It was then that Bellatrix noticed her nephew's arrival. She was so enthralled with the show that she didn't notice his horrified expression. Instead, she joyfully greeted him, thinking he had come to see Mangela's work.

"Draco!" she called and flung her arms wide.

"Ah! So glad to have another observer!" Mangela stated when he turned to face the boy. "You're in luck, you haven't missed much. We've only just started."

"Did you see that, Draco?" Bellatrix whispered, clearly in awe. "That was the effect of one small drop!"

"Great Merlin!" Mangela exclaimed. "Feel the skin."

Bella approached the girl and slowly placed her index finger on Hermione's leg, clearly disgusted with the thought of touching the girl's skin. She pulled it away quickly and looked at Mangela with wide eyes. She burst out laughing.

Draco, despite himself, had to know. He stepped up to the table and placed his hand on Hermione's bare arm. Her skin was burning. He couldn't hide the shock.

"Is she conscious?" Bella asked, poking at the girl.

"No. It seems the pain was greater than I anticipated. Of course, I do have to take in account the girl's weakened form. She hasn't been eating."

Draco noted the loose fit of the dress which was now slightly askew.

"Can't you transfigure her clothing?" he asked in disgust.

"I suppose I should," Mangela sighed. "That dress looks as if it's ready to fall off."

"Well, I know a few boys who'd find use for a naked little mudblood," Bellatrix smirked.

Draco could not hide his disdain.

"Oh, not that you'd soil yourself with that!" Bellatrix assured her nephew, misinterpreting his reaction. "But there are others who do enjoy that sort of thing."

Mangela waved his wand over Hermione and the tattered dress was transformed into something that resembled a pinkish hospital gown. "Transfiguration was never my strongest area." he sighed.

"But you're a genius at potions!" Bellatrix sang.

"Well, we can continue our work once she's had some water and a bit of a rest. Come, Bella, let's share our notes with the Dark Lord. Draco, be a good boy and give the girl some water. She's dehydrated and will be absolutely useless otherwise."

Bellatrix clapped her hands, thrilled to be able to share such delicious news with the Dark Lord. She took Mangela's offered arm and the two left the lab.

Draco knew this was the moment. He had to act now. For some reason that defied logic, Draco hesitated and went to fill a glass with water. He returned to the table side and carefully lifted Hermione's head. Her eyelids moved and when the rim of the glass touched her bottom lip, she opened her mouth.

Gently, Draco tipped the glass so that Hermione could drink. She tried raising her head more and slurped the liquid. Draco set the glass down and Hermione protested with a groan. She opened her mouth to speak but was unable.

He released the bindings on her arms and helped her to sit up. He had to support her back but she greedily took the glass in her hands and drank. There were red, raw burns along her wrists and he took his wand and muttered an incantation that healed the marks. What was he doing? He asked himself.

Giving her water and healing her wounds before he kills her? It was ridiculous. He wasn't going to kill her.

He released her ankles and healed the sores there. He cast a cleaning spell to her hair and skin. It was not as good as soap and water but it helped. Then he cast a spell that changed Hermione's long, brown hair into a short dark bob. Lastly, he transfigured Mangela's poor attempt at clothing. It morphed into a simple dress in the same color as the original. Hermione finished the water and gave Draco the glass.

Without a word, Draco slipped his arms underneath her legs and around her waist. In his hand, he held the candle holder and activated the Portkey. He held on to Hermione tightly as they were pulled from Mangela's lab and were transported to Knockturn Alley.


	4. Chapter 4

The combination of Portkey transport, the extra weight of Hermione and the fact he hadn't eaten since the evening before made Draco stumble and nearly fall when they reached their location. He managed to catch himself by falling into a brick wall with his shoulder.

The Portkey had delivered them to a discreet and narrow passage between two brick buildings. There was barely room for them in the space. Draco set Hermione down on her feet which he realised now were bare. She was weak and confused. She looked odd with her black bob.

"Can you walk?" Draco asked. His tone was harsh. Hermione nodded. "Listen to me, follow me and don't say or do anything! Do you understand?"

She nodded again but later would have no recollection of this brief conversation. She was barely able to stand and couldn't begin to understand her present situation. Draco took her hand and pulled her into the twisted roads of Knockturn Alley.

There were few people about which boded well for them. The people who were in the streets kept their eyes downcast and hardly paid them any mind. Hermione stumbled behind Draco, barely aware of the cobblestone on her bare feet. Draco was frantically trying to determine his next move. He checked his pocket for the stones. There was no time for Gringots.

He headed toward the streets of Diagon Alley and stepped into the first establishment that would have a Floo connection. It was a small convenience store for wizards. The shelves were overflowing without regard to aesthetics. Just about anything a wizard or witch could need; butterbeer, beazors, bruise heeling paste, Doxycide, Gregory's Unctuous Unction, Mrs. Scower's Magical Mess Remover, Murtlap Essence, Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction, pepper up potions, Sleekeazy's Hair Potion.

Draco slipped into the small shop and headed to the back where the hearth stood. At some point he had decided where to go; someplace he was familiar with that perhaps the Death Eaters would not think to look first. In any case, he would be able to visit a bank there and they would move on. Still holding Hermione's hand, he pulled her inside a large hearth and stated their destination.

They emerged from the another hearth into the heart of wizarding Paris. Still clinging to her hand, he lead her out into the street. Hermione was feeling ill from traveling by Portkey and the Floo after being captive and tortured for several days. The world spun and her legs finally gave.

Draco was completely taken aback as he had not even so much glanced at the girl since they fled Knockturn Alley. Several wizards and witches glanced at them and Draco pulled Hermione to her feet and lead her to a near by bench. She seemed dazed, as if she would faint. He patted her cheek, not too gently.

"Don't you dare faint," he hissed.

He knew she needed food or at least something to drink. He had no idea if Mangela's Liquid Fire had lasting damage. He glanced around the street. It was crowded with people walking to and fro going about their shopping. It was almost as if they were oblivious to the war next door.

"Don't move!" he ordered, even knowing that she would be unable to get away. He left her on the bench and headed down the block to a small bakery. There he purchased two rolls and some tea. He returned to the bench where Hermione was still slumped, her eyes nearly closed.

"Here." Draco handed her a roll and she took a small bite. He ate his own in a few bites, suddenly realising how famished he was. He handed the paper cup to Hermione and she sipped at the hot tea.

"We are going to the bank. You need to stay with me but don't say a word. Keep your head down."

While she still nibbled at the bread, he stood and she followed. It occurred to him that he may want a disguise as well. He found a secluded spot by a small boutique, Unique Chapeaux. He quickly changed his hair from white blond to a brunette colour, not unlike Hermione's original.

They continued on. Draco was familiar with the area as he would come quite often with his parents.

Of course, it had been months since they had been here. He tried to recall the last time he had been there with his parents. A sudden wave of anguish filled him as he realised that his mother would never return to this place again.

He pushed aside the sadness and focused on the task at hand. Soon they approached the bank and the two walked inside, hand in hand. As in the London branch, this bank was also run by Goblins. Draco approached one that was available.

"Excuse me," he spoke politely and in perfect French, "I'm wondering if it's possible to exchange these for Muggle currency?" He placed the handful of gems upon the counter and the Goblin raised his brows.

"Muggle money?" The Goblin asked to make certain he had heard correctly.

"Yes. I'd appreciate some discretion in the matter. You understand."

"Of course," the Goblin responded with a crooked grin. "I'll need to get my supervisor for this transaction."

Draco nodded and the Goblin went off. In just moments Draco and Hermione left the building with a rather large amount of Muggle cash. Once again, he pulled the girl along the streets, anxious to move on. Draco kept his eyes open and Hermione tried her best to keep up with him.

Suddenly he stopped, causing Hermione to bump into him. They entered a shop. It was lovely; decorated tastefully in gold and scarlet. Hermione wanted to ask Draco what they were doing. Why were they in France? Why were they in such an elegant shop? Before she could, he shoved a pair of shoes into her chest.

"Try these on," he demanded.

Hermione barely noticed the style of the shoes but once she slipped them on her feet she was suddenly grateful for their comfort.

"Do they fit?"

She nodded her and Draco went off to pay. She stood there, staring at the rows of fancy shoes under the bright lights of their display. After spending days in darkness, she thought it was one of the loveliest sights she had ever seen.

"All right then, off we go." He took her hand again, more out of habit than real need.

They walked several more blocks and even though Hermione now had comfortable shoes to protect her feet, her legs were sore and she was tired. At last Draco found the place he had been looking for.

They stepped inside and Hermione was reminded of The Leaky Cauldron. Draco emptied the pockets of his robes and removed the cloak. He folded the robe and tucked it under his arm and headed to the back or the place.

He paused at the door and turned to Hermione.

"Have you been to Paris?"

She nodded.

"You know how to find transportation?"

She nodded again.

"All right, then." He opened the door and they stepped into a bustling street in Muggle Paris.

* * *

Hermione and Draco found a train station nearby and Draco purchased a map and two tickets.

Hermione fell asleep as soon as they were seated on the train. Draco studied the map which also had information on places to stay. He found a couple of possible spots that might work.

Too agitated to sleep, he watched as the scenery passed swiftly by. He found it ironic to be on a train now with Hermione Granger; the only time he had travelled by train before was on the Hogwarts Express where he had stayed clear of the Gryffindor. He wondered what he would have thought of this scenario a few months ago? Even two weeks earlier?

He thought back to the start of his sixth year. He had been so pompous, gloating about how the Dark Lord had chosen him for a special mission. He had reveled in the extra admiration and fear from the other Slytherins and he desperately wanted to avenge his father. But even then, deep down, he was worried about completing his task.

How quickly it all fell apart around him. When Katie Bell had been hexed, he had been certain he would be found out and sent to Azkaban; shaming his father and putting himself and his parents in jeopardy.

Fortunately, he hadn't been caught and he knew how lucky he had been. He shifted all his focus on the task, ignoring his school work completely. Unfortunately, this drew unwanted attention.

Dumbledore had requested to meet with him late one afternoon in November.

**_"Ah, Mr Malfoy, right on time," the headmaster greeted Draco with his usual good humour._**

**_Draco entered the Headmaster's office cautiously, wondering why he had been summoned to the headmaster. Did the old man suspect something?_**

**_"Please, have a seat," Dumbledore indicated the chair before his desk. Draco sat down stiffly._**

**_"Toffee?"_**

**_"No, thank you."_**

**_"I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here. It's been brought to my attention by several of your professors, including Professor Snape, that your school work has been suffering."_**

**_Draco did not respond, unsure of what to say. Dumbledore waited for a moment and when it became apparent that Draco was not in the mood to discuss the matter, he continued._**

**_"I'm sure you've had a bit more responsibility placed upon you since your father has been... away."_**

**_Draco wondered if Dumbledore was referring specifically to matters related to the Dark Lord. He resolved himself to remain neutral and not give anything away._**

**_"It must be difficult to have the extra responsibility being only sixteen and still in school," Dumbledore commented._**

**_"I'm managing," Draco assured him._**

**_"Your grades state otherwise. Are you feeling well?"_**

**_"Yes, fine. Why?" Draco's tone was defensive._**

**_"You look like you haven't been sleeping well."_**

**_"I'm fine, Sir," he lied._**

**_"And your appetite?"_**

**_"Fine."_**

**_"It would be a shame if your grades continue to falter, Draco. You realise if this continues I may have no choice but to suspend you. I would hate to see you throw away a bright future."_**

**_Draco felt a jolt of panic. If he was suspended from the school there would be no way to complete the task. The Dark Lord choose him, in part, because of his access inside the school._**

**_"Professor Snape has offered his help," Dumbledore stated._**

**_Draco glared at the old man but quickly hid his anger. "Yes, I'll speak to him."_**

**_"That sounds like a good start. I know that your head of house wants the best for you."_**

**_"Is that all, Sir?"_**

**_"Yes," Dumbledore answered. Draco rose to leave when the headmaster spoke again. "Draco, know that you can come to me also."_**

Draco's memory faded as the train arrived at their stop. He gave Hermione's shoulder a rough shake.

Halfawake she followed Draco from the train.

"We need to get here," Draco explained pointing to a spot on the map. "How do we get there?"

"First you need to see if it's available," Hermione explained.

Irritated, Draco asked how that was done. It would have been so much easier to Apparate but he dare not use his wand in case the magic was traced. Hermione spotted a phone and explained how to dial the number.

They were in luck, there was a cottage available. The elderly man on the other line explained that since it would be late when they would arrive, he would leave a key for them and stop by the next day for payment. Hermione then explained to Draco how to phone a taxi.

She fell asleep again once inside the taxi. How she could remain sleeping while the tiny car zoomed along the rough road was a mystery to Draco. After a long and bumpy ride, the taxi pulled up to a tiny cottage. It's roof appeared to be missing some shingles, the white stucco was in need of another coat of paint and the yard was slightly overgrown. Muggles, Draco frowned.

He paid the driver and slipped from the car. Hermione was still sleeping soundly so he retrieved her from inside. The driver made a crack about being newly weds with a toothy grin. Draco rolled his eyes. The taxi speed away before he had reached the door of the cottage.

Draco found the key and unlocked the door while still holding Hermione. The door creaked open and he stepped inside. The interior was awash in shadows of the early evening. He flipped the on the light switch and the room filled with a yellowish glow.

Hermione stirred at last and opened her eyes. Realising that Draco was holding her, she squirmed from his arms. He set her down as soon as he saw she was awake; embarrassed slightly at being caught holding her. He went to inspect the place.

There was a small kitchen off the main room, a loo and two small bedrooms. It was furnished with pieces that had clearly seen better days. The fabric on the stuffed furniture was worn and faded. Draco had been going straight for nearly twenty hours and with hardly any thing to eat along the way. He didn't bother to assess the bed or to remove any clothing. He simply lay down and promptly fell asleep.

Hermione stood by the door for a moment, unsure of what to do. She had grown use to not having choices that it took her a moment to move on her own. She peeked into the room Draco had gone into and found him laying on his stomach, feet hanging off the bottom edge of the bed and snoring slightly.

She went into the loo and discovered a deep old fashioned clawfoot tub and was suddenly very aware of how long it had been since she had a proper bath. She closed the door, turned the lock and filled the tub with warm, clean water.

The warm water soothed her sore body and reminded her how tired she was. It was such a relief to wash the filth from her hair and skin. She scrubbed until the water turned murky and then refilled the tub to soak, inhaling the scent of soapy cleanliness. She stared at the faucet but didn't see it, too lost in her thoughts.

She was grateful to be gone from the dark cell and Mangela's lab. However, at least there she knew it would only be a matter of time before she succumbed to death. She had accepted that fact. She knew her parents wouldn't mourn for they were still under the impression they had no daughter.

Perhaps this was Draco's idea of torture; forcing her to go on without her two closest friends. Her heart ached thinking of them. She sank lower in the deep tub, her chin touching the water's surface.

How nice it would be to sink in the warmth of the water and float away...

A sudden banging on the door broke her reverie. She slipped and sputtered water from her mouth and nose. Apparently, Draco woke from his nap.

"Granger!" he bellowed through the door. "There is only one bathroom in this place."

Silently Granger left the tub and drained the water. She wrapped herself in a towel, grateful for its large fluffiness, and grabbed her clothing. Draco was waiting in the hall, arms crossed.

"It's about bloody time," he grumbled. "I was beginning to think you'd drowned."

He stepped into the loo and closed the door on her. She went into the second bedroom and closed the door, wishing there was a lock on it as well. The room was small and plain with a wardrobe, a stuffed chair and a twin bed with a striped blanket and a single pillow. She dried herself and slipped on the dress vowing never to wear pink again.

She peeled back the covers of the bed and crawled underneath them, drawing them up to her chin. She curled into herself and closed her eyes. Tucked inside the covers she felt like a caterpillar inside its cocoon. Perhaps when she awoke, she would be changed some how.

No, she had already experienced a metamorphosis; she was no longer the same person she had been just a handful of days ago. Had it only been days? It seemed like such a long time since Ron had held her hand. She drifted into an uneasy sleep.

She dreamed of Ron laying on the ground and bleeding, his blue eyes vacant. She saw Harry, not in disguise but as himself, running to help only to be struck with a curse. His body falling hard on the ground. Then she was alone in the cold, dark cell which began to shrink in size. The walls and ceiling closing in, becoming her tomb.

Hermione woke and blinked in confusion at the cheery sunlight that streamed into the room. Where am I? What's happened? Did the Order find me?! Slowly, the memories came; Mangela's lab, Bellatrix's hysterical laughter, Malfoy looking at her in disgust, a burning sensation in her throat and chest, and wishing for death.

There were also images of Diagon Alley, a Goblin with a crooked grin, riding a train and an elegant room in red. Had those been from her dreams? She glanced around the unfamiliar room, trying to remember how she how arrived there and who brought her.

She managed on wobbly, weak legs to stand and ventured into the hall. Across the way was an open door and she looked inside. She found someone asleep, one arm thrown over his eyes and a bare chest sporting a nasty scar. It was the hair that gave away his identity. Malfoy?! She had not expected to see the proud Slytherin. Was this some deviant plan of Voldemort?

Draco woke to find Hermione standing in the doorway watching him. He sat up, startled by her presence, wondering how long had she been standing there watching him.

"Granger?" his voice cracked with sleep.

"What am I doing here?" she demanded.

"Would you rather be back in the dungeons?"

"Yes," she lied.

"You would have died," he answered bluntly.

"I know."

He didn't know how to respond to her statement. Surely she didn't mean it. He was certain that her death would have been a gruesome affair; exploited by Voldemort to instill fear in Muggle and Wizard alike. He had expected some gratitude for rescuing her! Maybe she had gone mad as Crabbe suggested.

Hermione continued, "now Voldemort will be looking for you as well as the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix."

"I don't plan to be found," he answered angrily.

"What's to keep me from leaving this place?"

"You're free to do whatever you want." Draco was not in the mood to argue with the girl. "Go find the Order and fight the Dark Lord. Go home to your mummy and daddy. Go back to Mangela!"

She turned her back to Draco and considered leaving, heading out the door and walking away. But where would she go? She had nothing, no money, no wand. What was the point anyway; there was no way to defeat Voldemort with Harry gone. Defeated, she returned to her bed, crawled beneath its covers and succumbed to sleep so she would not have to make any decisions.


	5. Chapter 5

The elderly Muggle that Draco had spoken to on the telephone came by later that morning to collect payment. He was a small man with a weathered face, an easy smile and perched atop his head, a black beret. He was pleased with Draco's French (as well as his cash payment) and chatted with him briefly.

The man left and Draco decided to head into town. As was his habit, he retrieved his wand and searched his clothing for a place to keep it. Unfortunately, the only place was his back pocket and Draco did not think that it would be wise to have it so visible.

He decided that it would be best to leave the wand behind. He dare not use it for fear of its magic being detected. For a brief moment he contemplated breaking the slender wooden rod in two but he could not bring himself to do it. Besides, if there was an emergency it was best to have access to it. He was still a wizard, after all!

The town was a bit of a walk down a dusty, dirt road. Draco was hungry, grumpy and wondered how Muggles survived without magic. It was damn inconvenient having to walk when it would have been so much easier to Apparate. Better yet, having a couple of House Elves to do the shopping, cooking and cleaning. He imagined Hermione's reaction to that idea and grinned to himself.

The town was quite small making it easy to find food and other supplies. There was a shop that carried clothing though the selection was rather limited. Draco was not fond of the idea of wearing Muggle clothing but the idea of wearing the same clothes for a third day was even more unappealing.

Despite the limited selection, Draco ended up with an armful of clothes. After a quick calculation, he decided perhaps he'd best put back a few items. Even though he had been able to get a hefty sum for the precious stones, he knew the money would not last for long. Who would have ever thought a Malfoy could be fruggle?

He knew Hermione would need clothing as well and picked a few items, guessing at her size. Fortunately, there was little in the way of tailored clothing. On his return walk he noticed a book store and paused outside for a moment, he knew Hermione loved books and besides, he would need something to do with his time.

The small shop had very few copies written in English, not that Draco knew the books anyway as they had all been written by Muggles. However, one title intrigued him, The Lord of the Flies. He decided he'd give that a try and chose second book, something called Madame Bovary as well in case he didn't like the first.

When he returned to the little cottage, he was not surprised to find the door to Hermione's room still closed. He left the bag which contained the items he bought for her outside her door.

It had been two days since Hermione confronted Draco and she was still sequestered in her bedroom.

There had been a few times Draco could hear muffled crying and wondered if he ought to check on her. Once, he went so far as to stand before her closed door, about to knock, only to turn away after a moment.

What would he say to her? He had no idea. He was surprised she hadn't left. She was free to go anytime she wanted and where ever she cared to.

The sound of water roused Draco from his slumber. It was mid afternoon and he had fallen asleep on the sofa while reading. It's about bloody time Granger got out of bed, he thought groggily. He stretched, picked up the book which had fallen to the floor and continued to read.

He would never admit it to anyone but he was enjoying the story. Some time had passed when he realised that Hermione still had not emerged from the bathroom. A sense of foreboding crept up his spine. He rose from the sofa and rapped on the loo door. He was answered by the sound of a great splash of water.

"Granger?"

She did not answer but he could hear quiet sobbing from inside. Bloody hell.

"I'm coming in," he warned and opened the door slowly. There was water all over the tiled floor. He found Hermione hunched over in a tubful of water wearing her pink dress. She had her arms wrapped around her legs, head resting on bent knees, and was shivering and sobbing.

"What's happened?" he asked, clearly confused.

"I c-can't d-do it!" she sobbed.

"What?"

She looked up at him. "Will you help me?" she asked.

"Help you with what?" he didn't understand.

"H-hold me under"

"What!?" he shouted, stunned by her request.

"Please, Draco! I can't do it!" she continued, hysterical.

He reached into the tub and pulled the rubber stopper. The water was cool. "Merlin," he mumbled to himself. He ignored her protests, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her shoulders. Awkwardly, he managed to lift her from the tub and carried her to her bed. She sat upon the edge, shivering, as water dripped on the floor.

She simply stared ahead, her eyes blank. They sat in silence for several moments before she spoke.

"They're dead," she whispered, "Ron and Harry. I'll never see them again."

A part of Draco wanted to confess that he had been there; that he had seen Ron laying on the green grass while Hermione cried over his body. But how could he admit that?

"Who'll stop Voldemort now?" she asked.

"I don't know," Draco answered honestly.

She clutched the towel around her body. "Why didn't you leave me?" she asked.

"Because," he paused. "Because, I've see enough death. So stop asking me to do you in, alright? I'm not going to do it."

"I thought you hated us mudbloods," she challenged him.

"I don't know what I think any more. I just wanted to get out."

"Why?"

He did not answer right away. In his mind he saw his mother struck with the killing curse, he saw the innocent face of the little girl at the Weasley's wedding, Hermione writhing on Mangela's examination table, his own fear "

Draco?"

"There were a lot of reasons." He stood and went to the door, picking up the bag of clothing from the hall. "These are for you." He set the bag next to Hermione and left the room, closing the door behind him.

She peeked inside the bag and pulled out a piece of clothing, then another and another. She wondered where he found the clothes. Had he transformed them? She peeled off her wet dress off and tossed it aside, planning to burn it later. After she dried off she found a dress and pulled it on over her head.

She examined herself in the mirror that hung beside the wardrobe. The dress was a lovely shade of blue. It hung loosely on her thin form and Hermione was horrified at her gaunt eyes. She turned away and removed the rest of the clothing from the bag. She was surprised to find a small paperback inside. She picked it up to see the cover. She smiled, despite herself.

She returned to the loo and discovered Draco had placed a towel on the floor to soak up the water. She gazed at the empty tub for a moment. She had just wanted to escape. The sadness in her gut was too much too handle. She squeezed her eyelids shut, determined not to cry again, but tears still fell.

She had filled the tub, turning both faucets to fill it as quickly as possible. She stepped inside the water when it was only half full and she gasped at the coolness. She forced herself into the water and sat, arms curled around her legs. She shivered as she watched the water fill to tub. Once it reached near the top, she turned the water off and silence filled the small room.

She lay back and the water soon enveloped her. She closed her eyes and held her breath instinctively. Her hands splayed against the smooth sides of the tub and she felt her lungs demand air. Just take a breath, she told herself calmly. But she could not.

She struggled to hold herself under the water but she was not in complete control of her body. Despite the cool logical of her mind and the pain in her heart, her body would not allow her to breath in water.

She began to panic as her chest burned.

She sat up suddenly, water splashing over the rim and onto the floor. She gasped for breath and then slammed her hand upon the tub rim in frustration. Immediately she forced herself back under the water and tried again but it was if some force would not allow her to succeed; no matter how much she thought she wanted it, her body would force her from the water.

She tried again and again until she was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Granger?"

Hermione returned to the present moment and glanced at her reflection in the small mirror hanging above the sink. He had saved her again. She found a comb inside a cabinet and began to remove the tangles from her hair. It took her several minutes to work them out. When she was done, hair littered the floor. She picked up the broken pieces and placed them in the bin. Then she plaited her wet hair to keep it from becoming such a tangled mess in the future.

She found Draco lounging on the sofa, reading. She sat down in one of the chairs across from the sofa, the paper back in her hand.

"Thank you," she said in a quiet voice.

He glanced over at her and nodded before turning back to his book. Hermione leaned back in the chair, opened her book and began to read. Draco watched from the corner of his eye for a moment. He thought she looked almost normal, sitting there with a book in her hand.

The blue dress looked different on her, pretty even. He noticed she had plaited her hair and realised he had never seen her wear it like that before. He thought it flattered her face, though she was a bit too thin. Hermione must have sensed his gaze for she looked up from her book and their eyes met for a brief moment before Draco turned back to his story.

* * *

Draco was startled awake by screams. Death Eaters! He grabbed his wand, heart thumping inside his ribs, and rushed to Hermione's room. He found her alone, sitting in her bed, wide eyed and trembling.

"Granger?"

"I had a dream," she answered.

It seemed that since her mind had let go of notions of escaping reality, it was forcing her to look closely at it. Her dreams had grown steadily worse over the last few days since she had emerged from her cocoon. She dreamed of Mangela finding her and taking her back to his lab for more experiments.

She dreamed of Death Eaters striking down everyone she loved one by one at Bill and Fleur's wedding.

She would wake sweat soaked, her limbs twisted in the sheets and panicked until she realised it had only been a dream. Tonight was the first time she had cried out. She woke to find Draco standing in the doorway, wearing only his shorts, chest heaving and his wand in hand.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked awkwardly.

"Yes," she lied.

He nodded and turned to leave. Suddenly afraid at being left alone, she called out to him. She was almost embarrassed to ask, afraid he would refuse, irritated that she had woken him up in the middle of the night. "Will you stay? Just until I fall asleep?"

He was slightly annoyed at the rude awakening but he could hardly begrudge the girl; he had his share of nightmares. He didn't answer but simply took a seat on the chair in the corner of the room.

Hermione lay back and closed her eyes.

The soft moonlight illuminated her face and Draco watched as her features relaxed. Once he had found her unattractive, even repulsive, but now he couldn't see either. Her features were delicate, feminine, even beautiful. He studied her nose, cheeks and lips, staying long after she had fallen asleep. Even her hair seemed different, softer. He had the strongest urge to touch it. It was at that point he decided he'd better leave before he acted upon the impulse.

Hermione managed to sleep through the rest of the night until the morning sun woke her. She rose before Draco and explored the simple cottage. The memory of their travels was still quite fuzzy and she still couldn't quite believe that Draco Malfoy had helped her; he had saved her life.

Outside, Hermione discovered the overgrown garden of wild flowers and plucked a few. She placed them in a vase she found in the kitchen and made a breakfast with eggs, bread, oranges sliced into quarters and coffee. Draco was roused by the smells and found the table set for two.

"What's this?"

"I thought it was high time I showed you some gratitude," she explained.

He smiled, taking a seat at the small wooden table. They ate in silence, unsure of how to converse.

Draco enjoyed the food. He had bought the eggs and coffee but didn't have a clue how to prepare them. He was suddenly thankful Hermione Granger had grown up Muggle.

Hermione had started reading The Lord of the Flies, having finished Madame Bovary. She read well into the night until her eyelids became heavy. She placed the book upon the bed side table and pulled the cord of the old lamp. Darkness filled the room.

Usually she found it stressful to be in a darkened room. It reminded her of the dungeon she had been forced to live in. It was one of the reasons why she prefered to sleep with the bedroom door open; allowing more moonlight into the room. Besides, with the door closed, she felt imprisoned.

Tonight she was too tired to give the darkness any thought. She was glad of the sleepiness for it meant that she would fall asleep quickly and her mind wouldn't wander to things she'd rather not think of.

She slipped underneath the covers and closed her eyes. She was asleep almost at once.

She wasn't sure how long she had slept when she was awakened by the sound of her name being called.

"Draco?" she answered. Who else would be calling her?

There was no answer. She called him again, louder. Where was he? She left her bed and crept to the doorway. There was too little light to see properly. She could barely make out the door to Draco's room across the hall. She stepped inside and called his name again.

The silence was oppressive. She could just make out the shape of his bed. She reached out her hand in hope of finding him there, asleep. Her hand met the soft, cool sheets. The bed was empty. Suddenly, there was a scream from somewhere outside. Her blood turned cold.

"Draco!" she whispered and ran to the door. She flung the wooden door open and stepped out into the night. "DRACO!" she called.

All around her was silence and dark. She ran down the dirt road, oblivious to the stones underneath her bare feet. She called his name again and again but there was no answer. She could not see where she was going. Suddenly, she remembered his wand and ran back to the cottage. She ran into his room and searched for his wand in the dark.

"It's no use," a cold, disembodied voice announced, jarring her from her frantic search.

"Who's there?!"

"You know."

"Where's Draco!?"

"Gone."

"No!" she cried.

"I'm afraid so," the voice answered, "and now it's time for you to come with me"

It was suddenly quiet and Hermione found herself back in her bed; her heart beating very fast and a sense of dread filled her. Had it been a dream? It seemed so real. She tried to assure herself that Draco was sleeping soundly a few feet away.

She had to make sure but she was too frightened to move. She was afraid if she called for him, that cold voice would answer. She felt like she was seven years old again, afraid something under the bed would grab her ankles if she left her bed. She didn't even dare turn on the light for fear of attracting something unwanted.

Gathering her wits and steering her courage, she left her bed and made her way into his room. There was sufficient light to see him lying in his bed, sleeping soundly. Relief spread through her as she watched him. She felt safe again but couldn't bring herself to return to her room.

She went to the stuffed chair by the wardrobe and tucked her legs underneath her. It was not the most comfortable sleeping position but she prefered feeling safe over comfort. She closed her eyes and after a few minutes she fell into a light sleep.

As if sensing her presence, Draco woke and saw her curled up in the chair. "Hermione?" His voice was husky with sleep. Hermione woke at the sound of her name.

"I'd 'nother dream," she mumbled.

"Com'ere."

He lifted the covers for her. Hermione hesitated, for a moment, and then went over the bed and slipped inside the covers. Perhaps it was because he was half asleep, but he placed an arm around her as she settled in beside him. The gesture surprised her but it was oddly comforting.

Draco woke the next morning to find the girl curled up beside him and his arm tucked around her middle. He vaguely recalled waking in the night to find her sleeping in the chair. He could smell her skin and hair and feel the gentle rise and fall of her breaths.

He lay there for a moment longer. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of having someone close. How long had it been since he had held someone? He had an urge to pull her closer to him and feel her body solid against his. His body stirred at the thought and he thought it best to leave before his desire became more obvious.

He slipped from the bed as gently as he could but the absence of his embrace woke Hermione. Their eyes met.

"Good morning," he greeted her.

She blushed slightly and nodded. He smiled at her embarrassment as he left the room. Hermione blushed more at the sight of his bare back, his lean form clothed only in shorts and she thought of the scent of his bare skin.

Hermione nodded off again, and awoke with a jerk. She peered over her book at Draco. He was laying on the sofa reading a book he had purchased the day before, something Hermione recommended, The Lord of the Rings. His blond brows furrowed in concentration and she smiled. She was grateful he seemed to like the book for it meant that he would stay and read instead of retiring to bed, leaving her alone.

She was nearly finished with The Lord of the Flies though she had tried to make the book last longer than the two days. It wasn't as if there was much else for either of them to do in the small cottage.

Before, the thought of being able to do nothing all day except read would have filled her with orgasmic joy. Now she realised it wasn't as wonderful as all that.

She yawned, deeply. It was quite late but she dreaded the thought of going to sleep. She already feared the dreams that might come to haunt her. So she forced herself to stay up, finding comfort in the small room with the twin lamps burning and Draco near by.

Her head nodded once again and this time she did wake. The paperback held limply in her hand until it eventually slipped to the floor with a muffled thud. Draco looked up at the noise and saw Hermione had fallen asleep.

He set down his book, turned off the lamp near the sofa and the one next to Hermione. He slipped his arms underneath her legs and around her back, lifting her from the chair. She slept on, her head falling heavily against his chest. Good Merlin, the girl must be exhausted, he thought.

Hermione was vaguely aware of being carried from the chair, Draco's scent filling her. She floated along until she felt her body being placed upon a bed.

"No," she protested, "I don' wanna sleep."

"It's alright," Draco assured her.

Hermione heard him moving quietly within the dark room and before she could protest, she felt him crawl into the bed beside her. She hoped he would hold her as her did the night before but he did not.

Instead he curled up on his side with back to her. She was both disappointed and hurt.

She woke sometime in the early morning when the night sky was easing from pitch to purple and she was reminded that she was not alone. Draco held her to his bare chest and she could feel his warm breath as it tickled her ear. Their legs were intertwined and Hermione was both horrified and pleased.

Should she untangle herself from him or allow it? She longed for comfort and closeness after suffering loss and pain; she deserved it. But did he even realise what he was doing? He was asleep, unconscious of his body. If she moved would he wake and remove himself from her?

Although Hermione liked the feel of his touch, she also felt a tinge of guilt. What would Ron think? Was he able to see her now laying in the same bed as Draco Malfoy?! Tears filled her eyes thinking of Ron. She had tried so hard not to let him enter her mind. Please don't think ill of me, she thought as if she were speaking to Ron.

* * *

Hermione insisted that Draco wash the dishes. She had made dinner, after all. When Draco had moved to leave the table when she brought it up.

"Wash?" he asked as if he was uncertain of the word's meaning.

"Well, it's only fair. I made dinner."

"So therefore, you should wash the dishes," Draco insisted.

"No. We should share the work."

"Isn't this the kind of thing Muggle women like to do?"

"Excuse me? Where are you getting your information?" Realising what she had asked she quickly added, "Never mind. These days it is far more common for couples to share chores."

Both caught the reference to couples but choose to ignore the innuendo.

"I don't know how to wash dishes!" he argued.

"Well, it's time you learned. Honestly, it's not rocket science."

"What do rockets have to do with dish washing?"

"Exactly."

"Huh?"

"It's just a saying, Draco. I'm sure you can handle it. I'm going to go read outside on the patio." She left before he could utter another word. Grumbling, Draco began clearing the table.

After some muttering and a broken dish or two, Draco joined Hermione on the patio. She couldn't help herself, she burst into laughter when she saw the front of his clothing had a huge wet spot.

"What did you do, climb in the sink with the dishes?"

Draco fumed silently and Hermione felt a tad guilty for making fun of himso she suggested they walk into town to find some dessert. They conversed more easily now. Often they talked about the books they were reading or had read, places they had been to and other mundane and safe topics. They never discussed the war or Hogwarts. It was easier that way.

It was when they were headed back to the small cottage that Hermione was suddenly struck with a painful stab of guilt. She was laughing at a memory she was telling when she suddenly realised how absurd the situation was; there she was, safe and sound, as if on some holiday with Draco Malfoy of all people while back home her friends were fighting and dying. She stopped in the middle of the dirt road. What would Harry or Ron think?

"What's wrong?" Draco asked once he noticed she had gone silent and still.

Hermione shook her head. She didn't want to discuss it and besides, Draco had brought her here with him to keep her safe. She didn't want to sound ungrateful. She moved and the two walked the rest of the way in silence.

That night, Draco found himself having difficulty falling asleep. His mind began to stir and after laying there for an hour, he decided he needed to get up and clear his mind. He paused for a moment in Hermione's doorway and saw that she was sleeping soundly.

He went to the main room and sat down heavily on the small sofa. He sat in the darkness, his mind abuzz. It had begun with the worry that the money would run out sooner than later. What would they do then? Would he have to work in the Muggle world? What would he do? Maybe it wasn't safe to stay in one place too long. Perhaps they should move soon but where would they go?

How he longed for the halcyon days of childhood at the Manor, a time before he was aware of the Dark Lord and Death Eaters. A time when he looked up to his father and basked in his mother's love.

He hadn't thought of his mother in such a long time.

She's gone. It hit him suddenly as if he had just been informed. He had pushed that painful memory so far back into his mind and focused on his daily survival. He had never mourned for his mother's death. The sadness struck him forcefully and he sobbed.

Hermione had gone to bed reluctantly, worried that her guilt would stimulate her nightmares. She was too shy to ask Draco to stay with her so she went to her own bed while he went to his. She slept soundly and even dreamed some pleasant memories of classes and Hogsmead. However, for some reason, she woke in the dark hours of the night.

Something pulled at her subconscious and she decided to investigate. Her bare feet met the well worn wood floor and she quietly left her room. She peered into Draco's room and found his bed empty. Her heart skipped a beat and she quickly turned toward the small main room. There she found Draco sitting alone in the dark; hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands threaded through his hair.

"Draco?" she called quietly as she stepped into the room.

Startled, he sat up and she could clearly see his wet face. Quickly, he wiped at his cheeks and nose, embarrassed to be caught in his moment of weakness. He looked away, staring at the floor. Hermione hesitated, wondering if he wanted to be left alone but she couldn't leave him.

She approached him slowly, giving him the opportunity to send her away. He didn't. She took a seat next to him. Unsure of what to say, she simply placed a hand on his shoulder. She half expected him to flinch but he didn't.

The touch coaxed his tears to return and he cried again while the two sat in silence. She did not know what memories plagued him and she allowed him to cry in silence. When his trembles ceased and his breathing calmed and his sniffles subsided, she rose and retrieved a handkerchief. He wiped his eyes and nose and played with the damp cloth for a moment.

"He killed my mum," he said as last. There was no need to ask who he was referring to.

"I'm so sorry, Draco." Her words were sincere.

"She was protecting me and that bastard killed her!" his voice shook.

Hermione stroked the fine hair at the nape of his neck as he spoke. She wanted to say something to ease his pain but what could one say for such a loss? There were no words sufficient. They sat in silence for a moment longer. At last, Draco sighed heavily.

"I'm tired," he said as he stood. Hermione was as well. He waited for her and they walked the short distance to their rooms. He paused at the doorway of his room.

"Would you stay with me?" he asked quietly. Hermione could not see his face clearly in the darkness of the hall but she heard the plea in his voice.

"Of course," she answered simply. She followed him into his room and both slipped beneath the covers. He slept on his side, his back to her again. She curled up behind him and wrapped her arm around his waist. She felt his body respond by moving closer to hers, his hand clasping hers.

Draco dreamed of his mother surrounded by white, pink, peach coloured roses.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione had been quiet. It was not an entirely new characteristic but Draco could sense that there was much on her mind. He had tried to engage her in idle conversation to no avail. Finally, as evening drew close, he simply asked her what was on her mind.

"I want to contact the Order," Hermione announced.

Draco looked at her in disbelief. "It's too dangerous."

"I need to do something. I can't stay here and do nothing. I owe that much to Harry and Ron and myself as well." Draco's expression darkened and she took his hand. "Come with me," she pleaded.

"You know I can't."

"Yes, you can! The Order will protect you!"

"Why should they? With my history? With everything I've done?"

"You were being blackmailed! You saved my life, Draco, and I know that Dumbledore offered to help you."

How could she know that? He looked at her with a questioning look and she explained that Harry had been hidden in the tower the night Draco confronted their headmaster.

"Oh yes, that was right before I let the Death Eaters in," he added sarcastically. "There's no guarantee the Ministry of Magic won't chuck me into Azkaban. They'll probably be happy to make an example out of me. Even if the Ministry doesn't, the Death Eaters will."

"And you think you'll be safer here, alone?" Hermione snapped.

"Yes," he answered her honestly. A moment passed between them, each hoping the other would give in.

"I can't stay here, Draco," Hermione whispered at last.

He slipped his hand from hers and left without saying another word. He tried to sort out his feelings as he walked along the dirt road, his chest feeling constricted. He wasn't surprised that Hermione wanted to return, he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. Still, they had been together all this time and now she wanted to leave? He didn't understand.

Hermione knew that it would be difficult to convince Draco to come with her. However, she had hoped since they had grown closer, that he would. She understood his distrust of the Ministry, even the Order, but she was afraid the Death Eaters would eventually find him. She blinked back tears.

How could she leave him? She didn't want to loose someone else.

Eventually, she went to bed knowing Draco needed time alone to cool off. She went to his room; it would be their last night together and she wanted to be close to him. Eventually, she was roused from her light sleep when Draco slipped behind her.

"Don't leave me," he whispered. "You're all I have."

Hermione was stunned by Draco's declaration. Her heart ached. She turned to him. "I don't want to leave you but I have to go back."

"I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I'll be OK. I promise" her voice caught in her throat.

"To come back?" Draco smiled as if he were only jesting but his glassy eyes gave his true feelings away. Hermione managed to laugh, even as tears slipped from her eyes.

"Yes."

Draco moved closer and his lips brushed hers. She watched in fascination as he drew closer. She reached out a hand and stroked his cheek, wondering where this person had been. Her eyes asked him to give her another kiss and he obliged. She threaded her fingers through his fine hair and savored his kiss.

Perhaps it was because it was so unexpected that it felt as exciting as it did. Draco had studied Hermione's mouth and lips so often these last few days that he almost knew how they would feel. It was a hundred times better than he had imagined.

His hand moved to caress her shoulder; the thin strap of the simple dress she used to sleep in slipped from her shoulder. His lips moved from hers to her cheek, jaw, neck and shoulder. Hermione reveled in the soft kisses she had never experienced before.

Her body responded to his in ways she never felt and she longed for more intimacy. She wrapped her arms around him and his body shifted slightly to cover hers. She bent her knees and her dress slid to reveal her thighs. Draco sensed this and moved his hand to stroke the sensitive skin there.

Hermione breathed into his ear and kissed his neck while her hands explored the smooth skin of his back. She could feel him between her legs. This had happened once with Viktor but then she had blushed at the thought. Now it thrilled her and she opened her legs wider.

Draco groaned quietly and kissed her lips once more. His hand slipped underneath the thin cotton of her dress, roamed over her hips and his fingers whispered over her breast. Hermione arched her back at the simple touch. The sensation sent shivers through her body and she craved more.

She hissed as Draco's hand covered her bare breast and fondled it gently. He moved to kiss the sensitive skin there; his wet lips and tongue teasing her. Hermione could only arch her back and grasp his hair in wanting. Her legs wound around his waist, her hips ground into his, her bare feet caressed his calves.

Desire guided her; she reached a hand underneath the waist of his shorts. Draco suddenly moved to shove the things off. He turned to Hermione, looking into her heavy eyes for permission to move on.

Slowly, he shifted the dress up over her hips and he watched as her body was revealed slowly. His body ached at the sight.

The dress revealed her breasts Hermione reached down to pull the clothing free from her body. The two lay there for a moment admiring each others forms, hands gliding over the planes of skin, fingers teasing sensitive flesh. At last their eyes met once more and Draco moved to cover her wholly; their bodies melding.

He kissed her neck and earlobe. His lips moved slowly to hers. As her mouth welcomed him, her legs as well. Draco coaxed his body to connect with hers while they kissed. Hermione shifted her hips and at last, the connection.

Hermione arched and gasped at the intrusion. Having never done this before, her body was tight and unaccustomed to such a thing. Draco paused, kissing the salty skin of her neck and then her forehead.

His body trembled slightly at holding back from the glorious feeling of slipping further inside her. Contrary to popular belief, he had never done this with another. At last Hermione shifted, ready to explore further. Draco shifted on his elbows so that he could see her face. Her moved slowly, gasping at the velvety luxury of Hermione. His hand had never come close to this!

Hermione winced as he moved further inside bit by bit. Despite the pain, she felt a rush as she looked into his darkened eyes. Sweat covered his brow as he tried to control himself. He began to move back and forth, slowly, working his way inside her.

The pleasure grew intensely and he could no longer maintain eye contact and his body begged him to move faster. He did. Hermione's fingers dug into his shoulders and she cried out. However, his body wouldn't let him stop. The tremors grew deep with his belly and suddenly surged to his groin until he released himself into her.

He moaned loudly as his body took over. Hermione watched in fascination as he lost himself in her.

She shifted her hips and felt tiny bubbles of pleasure. She continued her grinding until she too came with a shudder. Draco collapsed upon her.

Silently, the two lay holding one another. Hermione felt tears sting her eyes. She was not sad. She had experienced something so incredible that it touched her deeply. They had become as close as two people could. She kissed his shoulder and held him closer.

Draco had been transported to another plane and was slowly returning. He had never experienced anything quite like that before. The feelings that tugged at him were much more than physical. He felt them in his mind and heart.

Leaving Draco was one of the most difficult things Hermione ever had to do but she had to continue the fight against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. She could not let Harry and Ron's deaths be in vain despite the pain she was causing herself and Draco.

She had planned to travel the Muggle way but Draco surprised her by giving her his wand. "I can't take this!" she insisted. "What if you need it?"

"I think your need is greater than mine."

"Draco, I can get a new wand. You should keep this."

"No," he was firm and she knew he wouldn't give in. Suddenly, there was an awkward pause between them. Neither was certain what to say or what to do.

"I better go," Hermione said at last.

"Be careful."

"You too."

Draco nodded and then, somewhat awkwardly, pulled Hermione into a fierce hug. She clutched him tightly and willed herself not to cry again. At last they separated and Hermione Disapparated with a pop. Draco stood for a moment, looking at the empty space where Hermione had been and he willed himself not to cry.

* * *

Hermione Apparated directly to the stoop of Grimwauld Place. She stood for a moment recalling the last time she had been there and teared at the memory of Harry and Ron. However, she resolved to be strong and taking a deep breath, she placed her hand upon the door handle.

She stepped inside the front hall, glanced at the curtain hanging over the portrait of Mrs Black, and crept quietly passed the painting. On the walls hung photos of Order members; Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Rubeus Hagrid, Alastar Moody, Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore and the many others.

There was also a photo of Hermione with Harry and Ron. It had been taken the day before Bill and Fleur's wedding. In it, Hermione stood between the other two, their arms linked together, all three were laughing. The photo made her smile.

"Hermione?" Molly Weasley stood at the end of the hall and stared at Hermione as if she were looking at an apparition. At once, the two burst into tears and grabbed each other in a tight embrace.

"We've been looking for you! Are you hurt? We've never stopped looking! Oh, it's so good to see you! Are you all right, dear?"

Hermione giggled through her tears at the woman's nonstop questions. After their long embrace, Hermione assured Mrs Weasley that she was fine. Mrs Weasley looked doubtful but did not press the matter.

"You're too thin," Molly commented worridly. "Come, the others will be thrilled to see you!"

Hermione entered the kitchen with Mrs Weasley and was immediately accosted by Ginny. Not ordinarily an emotional girl, Ginny nonetheless sobbed happily as she hugged her friend. Ginny finally released her, wiping away her tears. Remus and Tonks were there as well and each gave Hermione a warm hug. However, their joyous celebration was suddenly interupted.

"What's the bloody ruckus about?!"

Turning to the voice, Hermione found herself looking at none other than Ronald Weasley. His look of annoyance was suddenly replaced by suprise at the sight of Hermione, back safe and sound. Hermione was too stunned to react.

"Hermione!" Ron rushed to her and enveloped her in his arms. Hermione could only sob. Silence reigned over the kitchen while the couple held each other and more tears were shed. At last they broke apart and joined the others at the table.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Remus asked.

"Yes"

She shook her head and fresh tears dripped along her cheeks. "But, I don't understand, there was so much blood. I didn't know any healing charms! I thought you were dead." She sobbed harder and Ron put his arm around her shoulders while Mrs Weasley patted her hand.

"We thought we'd lost him as well," Molly said. "Once the Death Eaters retreated, healers were summoned and Ron was taken to St Mungo's. It was touch and go for a few days but he pulled through." Molly smiled through her own tears at her youngest son.

"He's fine now, though he likes to milk it," Ginny grinned.

"And, the others?" Hermione was nearly afraid to ask. "Is everyone alright?"

"There were some injuries." Remus answered. "We were very lucky not to loose anyone."

"But, Harry, I saw him hexed and the Death Eaters said he was killed! Is he alright? Where is he?"

"He's fine," Ron assured her.

"He was hit with a stunning spell," Lupin explained. "I'm sure the Death Eater who cast it had no idea who he was cursing. However, it was leaked that Harry had been in disguise at the wedding and had been killed. It's given us a huge advantage."

"Who spread the rumor?"

"We have an agent inside Voldemort's circle."

"Who?" She couldn't help but ask.

"The fewer people that know, the better."

"Where is Harry?"

"Off hunting Horcruxes," Tonks answered.

"Alone?!"

"No," Lupin assured her, "Charlie Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt are with him."

"Have any more been found?"

"Yes, but we can fill you in on that later. You need to tell us what happened to you."

Hermione explained that she had been held at the Malfoy Manor but spared them details of Mangela and his experiments. She did tell them Draco took her from the cell and kept her hidden until she was strong enough to return. She left out the details of their relationship, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt.

"Malfoy?!" Ron asked in disbelief.

"Dumbledore knew Draco didn't have it in him," Lupin commented. "Where is he?"

"I promised I wouldn't say. He's afraid of being thrown in Azkaban."

"Better that than caught by Death Eaters!" Tonks stated.

"He doesn't trust the Ministry," Hermione explained.

"I don't blame him," Lupin said.

"What's important is that you're back," Ron said. She smiled into the blue eyes that she thought she'd never see again.

"We should take you to St Mungo's, just for a once over," Molly suggested and Lupin nodded in agreement.

"No, I'm fine, really."

Molly looked ready to argue but decided the visit could wait. "Well, at least have something to eat."

Hermione could hardly believe that she was back at Grimwauld place having breakfast with Mrs Weasley, Lupin, Tonks, Ginny and Ron. It was almost as if the last few weeks hadn't happened at all.

She ate the food that Molly gave her, wondering briefly how Draco would manage to feed himself. She joined in the conversation and later, sat down with Remus and Tonks to give her story to them again. They updated her on the latest news of the fight against Voldemort. The Order had managed to track down all but one Horcrux and they had their best and brightest researching possible locations.

Hermione asked if she could help and was welcomed quite happily.

The excitement of the day tired her quickly and by the late afternoon she wandered upstairs to take a nap. Molly had already seen to making the extra bed in the room she was to share with Ginny, including laying out an extra set of pajamas for her to borrow.

Exhausted as she was, she found herself staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Why wasn't she completely happy? Her best friends were both alive!? She was thrilled to see Ron standing in the kitchen. She recalled and she remembered her joy when they were last together. Yet, something was tugging at her happiness now.

She was confused. She and Draco and become so close. He had asked her not to leave him. What were her feelings for him? If he had come with her, what would have happened? She hoped to see him again. Then what?

* * *

Ron woke, remembered that Hermione's return was not a dream and even though it was barely nine a.m. he came down from his room, excited to see her. He found Hermione seated at the kitchen table listening to Ginny chatter. Molly was fussing over the stove and he stopped to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Morning, Mum."

Molly smiled at her youngest son and began to prepare a plate for him. He sat down next to Hermione who greeted him with a shy smile. He had the urge to kiss her but decided against it as both his sister and his mother were present. Instead, he grabbed her hand and squeezed. Hermione felt a slight unease at the intimate gesture.

"Oi, Ron! What are you doing up before noon?" Ginny teased.

He simply smiled. Molly placed a plate before him and he began tucking into his breakfast. Hermione felt a sense of relief when he released her hand.

"Hermione, dear, you've barely touched your food!" Molly admonished as she took a seat at the table.

Hermione looked at her plate and realised she hadn't eaten much but her mind had too much to sort through to think of eating. Ron gave her a concerned look.

"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley, I just don't think my stomach is use to so much food," Hermione explained.

A silence fell over the table.

"Of course not, dear," Molly coddled. "Is there anything special I can make for you?"

"No, thank you." Hermione suddenly felt a bit guilty at the attention she was getting and found herself becoming emotional. She excused herself from the table and left abruptly.

Ron made to follow but Molly stayed him with a hand. "I think she might need some time to adjust to things."

"Adjust to what?" Ron asked, dumbfounded. "She's back home where she belongs."

"We don't know everything she went through, dear. Give her some time."

* * *

Hermione had been back to Grimmauld Place for several days and immersed herself into research and joined in whenever the Order met. It was at these times that she seemed most like her old self; confident and industrious.

Ron was beginning to feel that she was avoiding him. He rarely had time alone with her and when he was fortunate to find her without anyone else around, she seemed uncomfortable and would find an excuse to leave soon after. He tried not to take it personally but it was difficult.

"It's like she doesn't want to be with me," he confessed to his sister one evening while they sat in his bedroom.

"She's been through a lot."

"I know," he said, feeling badly for being selfish.

"Ron," Ginny began gently, "it's just that we can't know exactly what she experienced, you know? I mean, she may have suffered some horrible experiences."

Ron suddenly looked frightened. "You don't think she was" he could hardly bring himself to say the word, "raped, do you?"

Ginny didn't answer right away. She knew that in times of war that women and girls were often victims of rape. "I hope not and I don't think she was but we just don't know what happened to her while she was gone."

"I don't know what I'd do if I found out she had been" his eyes teared.

"Don't worry over it, alright? Just don't take her behavior personally."

"When'd you get to be so smart?"

"Me!? I've always been the smart one!"

The two laughed and then were soon interrupted by the sound of someone's arrival.

"HARRY!" Ginny yelled and darted out of the room. She ran down the stairs into the front room where Harry stood alongside Kingsley Shacklebolt and Charlie Weasley. Ginny pounced into Harry's arms and kissed him soundly on the lips. "I'm so glad you're back!"

"I'm sure she's happy to see us too," Charlie said to Shacklebolt. Everyone chuckled, including Hermione who stood behind. Once Ginny had released Harry, his eyes met hers.

"Hermione?"

"Surprise!" Ginny announced.

Harry and Hermione embraced like two siblings reunited after being separated at birth.

"The Golden Trio!" Charlie beamed.

Hermione felt her heart lighten and everything seemed nearly perfect. She was with her two best friends once again and she would be damned if she would be separated from either of them again.

They celebrated the trio's reunion as well as the latest successful Horcrux hunt. The following day the Order would meet.

There was only one Horcrux to be found and then the final battle could be planned at last. Everyone felt a sense of hope that the end of the war was in sight. Later, that night, Hermione stared out the window into a clear star filled sky. She hoped that Draco would be watching the same star at the moment and that he would some how know that the end was near and she would see him again, soon.


	7. Chapter 7

The days that followed Harry's return were filled with Order business. Members were constantly in and out of Grimwauld Place so there was always a house full of people. Hermione immersed herself into research and joined in whenever the Order met to discuss the latest news and plans. It was at these times that she seemed most like her old self; confident and industrious. It gave her something to focus on and work toward.

It also gave her an excuse not to spend time alone with Ron. She found herself feeling more uncomfortable around him and wasn't ready to face the reasons why. All she wanted was for the damn war to be over, Harry to be safe and to find Draco.

Ron knew that something was amiss. He assumed that Hermione had been traumatised with the kidnapping and the last thing on her mind was romance, though it hurt that she couldn't come to him for comfort. He finally voiced his concern to Harry one morning before they headed down for breakfast.

"Do you think Hermione's been avoiding me?" he asked tentatively.

"No," Harry lied. He had noticed. "Don't take it personally, mate. Who knows what she went through those weeks she was gone."

"You don't think she was..." He couldn't bring himself to say the word.

Harry guessed what Ron alluded to. They knew Hermione had been tortured; she had told them that much though spared them the details. What concerned Ron was that she may have been raped.

"I hope to Merlin not. Has she been to St Mungo's?"

"No. Mum's tried to get her to go but she insists that she's fine."

"She's too stubborn."

"True."

"Just give her some time, alright? Come on, mate," Harry added, "let's get something to eat."

Food was always a good way to distract Ron and he followed Harry downstairs to the kitchen where they found nearly a full table; Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Ginny and Hermione. They joined everyone and began to fill their plates. The kitchen was noisy with the chatter of two or three different conversations. A copy of the Daily Prophet came hurtling through the Floo network, narrowly missing Harry's head.

"May I see that?" Hermione asked. She was usually the first to read through the paper when it arrived at Grimmauld Place, skimming the pages thoroughly for information to report to the Order. She was very good at reading between the lines.

Harry picked up the rolled parchment from the floor and tossed it over to Hermione. She unrolled the parchment and peered at its front page. Her face blanched.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, first to notice Hermione's expression.

She couldn't speak. She felt that she might vomit if she opened her mouth. She handed the paper to Ginny. By now the rest of the table had cottoned on and became silent. Ginny read the headline aloud.

"Lucius Malfoy and Fellow Death Eaters Escape Azkaban."

"When?!" Mr Weasley asked. Ginny scanned the article and relayed the information, little was known. "I should get to the Ministry," Mr Weasley stood.

"I'll contact the rest of the Order," Tonks volunteered.

Everyone began moving and Hermione stood, pale faced.

The room seemed to spin and she collapsed to the floor.

"Hermione!" Ron called and rushed to her side. Mrs Weasley Flooed for a healer from St Mungo's and then joined her son. Hermione began to regain consciousness.

"Draco" she mumbled. Ron grimaced at the name but stayed by Hermione's side.

"Shh, now," Molly soothed. "A healer is on the way."

"We have to find Draco"

"We'll look for him," Harry assured her.

"You don't know where!" Hermione began to cry.

"Arthur's gone to the Ministry"

"He doesn't trust the Ministry! I need to go"

"No!" Ron shouted causing his mother to jump. "You just passed out on the floor!"

"He doesn't have a wand!" Hermione argued. "He gave me his so I could return. He has no way to defend himself."

"We'll find him," Mrs Weasley assured her.

The mediwitch from St Mungo's arrived and put a stop to Hermione's arguing. Healer Bombay was a lovely Indian woman with a long black plait. Hermione was moved to her bedroom for an examination. Afterword, the healer sat down beside Hermione's bedside.

"Well, Ms Granger, you are in good health though your weight is a bit low." The mediwitch smiled warmly before continuing. "I'm wondering, Ms. Granger, were you aware of your pregnancy?"

Hermione paled. "No," she whispered.

The healer nodded, understanding Hermione's shock. "Well, you are very early in the pregnancy. Do you have any questions?"

Hermione only shook her head, her eyes tearing.

"I'd like to see you again next month. Will you be able to arrange an appointment?"

Hermione nodded, afraid she would burst into tears if she spoke.

"Very well," Healer Bombay stood and took the girl's hand in hers, "if you need to speak to me before then, just Floo."

A moment after the mediwitch left, there was a knock on the door and Mrs Weasley entered. "Can I bring you anything, dear?" Hermione shook her head.

"All right then. Healer Bombay said you just need some rest." She patted Hermione's cheek and smiled down at her. "I imagine the stress finally caught up with you."

"I need to let someone know where Draco is," Hermione said.

"Remus is on his way to speak to you. Don't you worry, they'll find him. Shall I send the others in or do you want a rest?"

Hermione nodded, not ready to face her friends. She needed time to accept the news.

* * *

The small white cottage in need of paint with the overgrown garden sat at the end of a long dirt road. Lupin and three Aurors Apparated just down the road. They approached slowly, careful to observe movement and any changes within the Magical current in the air.

Rowling, an Auror with a blond mane, lead the group. She approached the building first and edged her way along its exterior to a window. She peered inside and then signaled for the others to approach.

They surrounded the cottage and entered, once they confirmed it was safe to.

Inside, they found overturned and shattered furniture. Pieces of broken glass and splintered wood crunched under their boots as they surveyed the interior. The two small bedrooms were just as damaged with slashed bedding and torn curtains.

"Looks like he put up a fight," one of the younger Auror's commented.

"No," Lupin said as he looked around the ruined cottage, "I don't think there was a fight."

"No," Rowling agreed. "This was an act of rage."

"So, he got away?"

"We can only hope," Lupin answered.

* * *

It was quite late in the evening by the time Lupin was able to return to Grimmwauld Place to deliver the disappointing news. Hermione listened quietly as Lupin relayed what they found.

"So, he got away then?" Harry asked.

"It looks that way. Whoever wrecked the cottage was upset and there was no sign that anyone had been taken or injured."

"Thank you for looking." Hermione's voice was quiet.

"The Ministry and the Order will keep looking, Hermione," Lupin assured the girl.

Hermione nodded as tears began to fill her eyes. She excused herself abruptly and left behind Lupin, Ron and Harry. Silence reigned for a moment.

"Why does she care so much about the git?" Ron snapped suddenly.

"I imagine they developed some kind of relationship," Lupin speculated.

"What do you mean?!" Anger and jealousy flashed across Ron's face.

"Only that they had to depend on each other," Lupin tried to reassure him. "I'm sure she feels guilty for leaving him."

"Yeah, well, I for one wouldn't care if the Death Eaters find him first! I haven't forgotten about what a prat he was to her all those years!" He stood from his chair and left the room.

"Ron!" Harry called but Lupin gestured for him to leave it. Lupin suspected that maybe Ron's jealousy was not out of place and pushing the topic could make matters worse. A door slammed shut on the floor above.

"He was a prat," Harry agreed, "but in the end I think he was scared."

Lupin nodded. "Albus hoped to save him."

"Of course, Dumbledore also trusted Snape."

"Sometimes our perception becomes skewed," Lupin commented. "Look at my own past, trusting Peter and failing to believe Sirius. Sometimes people surprise us in a moment."

"You sound like Dumbledore," Harry smirked and Lupin smiled at the compliment. He had always admired the man's ability to see the best in people.

"Do you think the Ministry will really look for Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Lupin didn't want to answer Harry's question. Ministry resources were stretched tight, doing everything they could to fight Voldemort. How important was it that they find one reformed Death Eater? Lupin hunched that Hermione knew the truth as well.

"For Hermione's sake," he answered at last, "I hope they do."

Hermione winced at the sound of the door slamming down the hall, suspecting that it had been Ron.

She was certain her concern for Draco caused him great suspicion. She couldn't hide it. She couldn't blame him for being upset. Just a few short weeks before, it was clear to them both that their relationship had surpassed mere friendship.

Now she avoided being alone with him. She had been grateful that no one pressed her for details about her time spent with Draco. They could barely fathom that Draco Malfoy had helped her escape from Voldemort, putting himself in grave danger, how could they understand they had become close?

She wondered if anyone suspected it. After all, she had been under the impression that Ron died in her arms.

What did that say about her devotion to Ron; that she could so easily forget him and attach herself to someone new?! She muffled the fresh sobs that erupted from deep within her chest so as not to wake Ginny. How could I have let this happen? How am I going to manage this? Who would understand?

Turning onto her side, she covered her head with her blanket, searching for some comfort in the warmth of its cocoon.

* * *

What did it say about Hermione's devotion to Ron that she could so easily forget him and attach herself to someone new?! She muffled the fresh sobs that erupted from deep within her chest so as not to wake Ginny.

'How could I have let this happen? How am I going to manage this? Who would understand?'

Turning onto her side, she covered her head with her blanket, searching for some comfort in the warmth of its cocoon.

Winter moved swiftly into England bringing a chill in the air. Hermione emerged from her shower and toweled off the moisture from her skin, patting herself dry. She paused when she reached her stomach. She was almost afraid to look, as if her belly might have suddenly ballooned. But, of course, she saw no difference, not even when she changed her stance or posture. When does one begin to show? she wondered. She made a mental note to herself to look into the information.

It was difficult for her to accept the fact that she was pregnant. There was no morning sickness or other symptoms. She didn't feel pregnant. She had never really given thought to having children; she was much too young. She wondered if the fetus would even survive under the amount of stress she found herself. She hardly had any appetite and despite Molly's gentle coaxing and excellent cooking, Hermione didn't eat much and had lost more weight.

She shook her head; she could not think about this now. Now she had to focus on helping the Order of the Phoenix bring an end to the war. She knew that the Order and the Ministry of Magic had more important priorities than looking for Draco. She didn't ask for updates on the matter. She had briefly considered looking for Draco herself but she knew that it would be foolish. As much as it pained her to know that Draco was in alone and in danger, she knew it would be best to stay and fight so that an end could come to the war. The sooner it ended, the sooner she could find Draco.

Passerbys frowned at the young man who was obviously homeless. Ill dressed for the cold front that had arrived, he wore only a jumper and a knit cap pulled low over his head. He slouched as he walked along the sidewalk, hands shoved into his jeans' pockets, his head down, mumbling to himself about eating and death. People either avoided him or gave him looks of pity. He ignored them.

He headed to his familiar haunt where he could sit for hours undisturbed and enjoy the free heat.

Thank Merlin for public libraries, another great Muggle invention. He was nearly there, it was just on the next block across the street. He wiped a hand under his runny nose and shoved it back into his pocket. Another coughing fit stopped him in his tracks. He didn't notice the dark figure standing nearby, waiting.

"Damn cold! Buggering winter weather! Freezing my bloody arse off"

"Talking to yourself, Draco?' a voice drawled. A wand pressed into his back. "You're sounding like your father."

Remus Lupin entered the study at 12 Grimmuald Place to a scene of apparent normalcy; Harry and Ron having a game of Wizard's Chess, Hermione with a book. Though, upon closer inspection he could see that neither boy was particularly into their game and Hermione was merely staring out the window, her book forgotten on her lap.

"Draco Malfoy has been found," Lupin announced. All three looked up, Hermione's book fell to the floor with a thud as she sat up straight. Lupin continued, "an Order member is bringing him by shortly."

"Here?" Ron clearly sounded put out.

"Where else would they take him?" Hermione shot back.

"Oh, I don't know, Azkaban perhaps?"

"Enough," Lupin interrupted. "There's something I need to share with you first."

All three cast glances at one another. Hermione fretted that the news was about Draco and not good.

Lupin took a seat in one of the vacant chairs, settling in as if what he was about to tell them was no easy task. Tension rose and the three friends waited anxiously.

"As you know, the Order has a spy working within Voldemort's circle. His identity is a closely guarded secret to protect his cover. There are only two current members that know of his alliance. I was only informed shortly before Albus's death." He paused here as if he was recalling the moment.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, because of his ties to the Ministry, is the other member who knows. I'm going to tell you his identity because he is escorting Draco here and, and you should know before he arrives." He smiled feebly at the trio. "It's Severus Snape."

"Are you mad!?" Harry stood up from his seat. "He's not on our side! He killed Dumbedore!"

"I'm aware of that, Harry."

"How can he be on our side when he killed the one wizard whom Voldemort feared?"

"It was planned by Albus himself," Lupin explained.

"What?!" Ron voiced Harry's shock.

"That's ridiculous!" Harry shouted.

"He was dying, Harry."

"What?"

"It was Morvolo's ring. You saw his ruined hand. Albus was dying a slow death. There was no cure."

"But why ask Snape to kill him?!" Harry asked.

"He used the opportunity to save Severus's cover. Bellatrix Lestrange was suspicious. If she were to uncover his true alliance, he would have been killed."

"That's why Dumbledore Petrified me..."

"So you wouldn't interfere," Lupin finished.

"I don't like this at all," Ron said, "Snape and Malfoy here."

"I don't either," Harry agreed.

"You both need to move on!" Hermione snapped. "Harry, you told us about Draco's hesitation that night on the tower! You told us about his break down to Myrtle"

"You mean when he tried to Avada him?" Ron shouted. Hermione was momentarily silenced and Ron continued. "How about the time he nearly killed Katie and me?"

"Neither of you were the intended targets," she argued feebly.

"Oh well, in that case, it's alright then!"

"Now, Ron"

Lupin tried to calm the situation but Hermione continued on.

"He was being blackmailed!" she yelled.

"What about all the years he teased you? Called you mudblood? Wished you dead?!"

"RON!" Harry snapped.

Hermione began to cry. "People can change, Ronald!"

"Are you sure about that?"

"What about me then?" Hermione asked. "I wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for Draco."

Silence finally reigned though the tension was palpable. Before anyone could say anything, the sound of the Floo from the kitchen was heard. At once, Lupin and Hermione stood. Harry and Ron followed hesitantly. Harry offered Ron a look of understanding. Inside the kitchen stood Snape looking somewhat odd in Muggle clothing. Draco stood beside him looking tired, worn and feverish.

Draco didn't recognize the man at first, in part because his fever was making him delirious and in part because the man was dressed in Muggle clothing; a long black coat, black trousers, black shoes and a black fedora. It was the eyes that finally gave the man's identity away. That and a strand of long, black, greasy hair that slipped untucked from beneath the fedora. Draco contemplated making a run for it. Surely the man wasn't daft enough to curse him surrounded by Muggles?

"Don't even think of running," Severus Snape warned.

"Don't take me back!" Draco begged. "Avada me, I don't care! Just don't take me back to that buggering Death Eater!"

"Shh! Quiet, boy! Do you want the Muggles to call the authorities? They'll throw you into an asylum!"

"I don't care! Don't take me back!" Draco was nearing hysteria.

"I have no intention of taking you back to Voldemort," Snape hissed. "If you would stop your dramatics I can explain. Are you going to come willingly or do I need to use the Imperius?"

Draco didn't have much choice. He followed Snape from the street down several blocks and finally to a narrow alley way between two tall buildings.

"Listen to me, I am taking you to a safe place, however, there is something you should be aware of," he paused. "Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley are there."

"What? Potter? Weasley?" Draco was confused, his fever addling his memory. "They're dead, the Death Eaters..."

"Haven't you learned yet not to trust what those idiots say?!"

"But, I was there, I saw..."

"Despite what you think you saw, they are alive and well. Can you behave yourself?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, I guess..."

"Good. Otherwise you'll have to face the Ministry and they may decide to toss you into Azkaban."

Draco shivered at the thought. "Wait, is Hermione there as well?"

"Yes."

Suddenly, Draco felt a tug in his gut and the squeezing sensation of Disapparation. The two Apparated into some anonymous wizarding spot where Draco proceeded to become sick on the floor. Snape merely rolled his eyes and pulled the boy into a nearby grate. A moment later the two emerged into the well lit and scrubbed kitchen of 12 Grimmuald Pace.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco now found himself staring at Hermione. A part of him wanted to go to her and hold her, kiss her, to show how glad he was that she was all right and had made it safely back. However, he held himself back. There were too many others with them, too many who wouldn't understand. His eyes wandered to Ron who's own blue eyes were glaring at Draco as he moved closer to Hermione.

Hermione didn't notice Ron's subtle shift closer to her side. She could only stare at Draco; thrilled at his return but horrified at his state. He looked as if he were about to pass out.

"Severus, Draco," Lupin greeted them both.

"Remus," Snape replied. "As you can see, the boy's made himself ill, living on the streets. Have you any Fever Reducing potion?"

"No, but I can brew some," Hermione volunteered. Snape nodded.

"Perhaps you can take Draco to a room?" Lupin suggested.

"I'll help," Ron offered.

"No," Hermione snapped. "Harry?"

Ron was flabbergasted. Harry remained silent but stepped forward to help. Draco was weak and wobbled a bit unsteadily. Harry wrinkled his nose at Draco's body odour and could feel the heat from his fever coming off his body.

"Blimey, he's burning up."

"He looks terrible," Hermione fretted.

"Oi, I can still hear," Draco mumbled.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked as they headed to the third story.

"Mostly the library."

Harry gave Hermione a perplexed look, unsure if he heard correctly. She shrugged in response, assuming Draco was delirious from his fever. They reached a small room that contained two bare beds and sparse furnishings. Hermione flicked her wand and one of the beds was magically made with fresh sheets from the linen cupboard. Harry lead Draco to the bed where he fell heavily on top of it.

"Alright then?" Harry asked Hermione.

She nodded and he left the room. She went to Draco and began pulling off his shoes.

"Don'," he mumbled, "I need a bath."

"Later." She removed his shoes and tugged the blanket underneath him free to cover him. He was asleep by the time she was done. She pulled off the filthy knit cap and caressed his cheek, blinking away tears before she left to collect her potion ingredients.

She carried the supplies to the kitchen where Lupin, Ron, Harry and Snape were sitting tensely around the wooden table. She placed her cauldron on the stove and then filled a kettle with water for tea.

Honestly! she thought, annoyed no one thought to make tea and proceeded with the potion making.

Snape approached after a moment and peered into her cauldron. She was ready to snap at him if he dared critique her potion. He merely nodded and returned to the table. High praise, indeed!

The kettle whistled and Lupin prepared tea, giving Hermione the first cup before offering any to the rest. While the Fever Reducing potion brewed, she joined the table and the conversation that was in progress. Although tense, everyone managed to remain polite. Snape explained how he was finally able to track Draco.

"I have no idea how long he's been living on the street," he said. "He managed to find his way back to England and was wandering around Muggle London mumbling about Death Eaters."

"It's a lucky thing you found him before the others did," Lupin said.

"Actually, he was spotted by one of Voldemort's look outs but I volunteered to bring him in." He paused for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I hate to think of what would have happened to him if someone else had retrieved him."

Hermione was caught off guard by the subtle emotion Snape showed. He cared for Draco. She blinked back tears.

"What will you do when you return without him?" Lupin asked, clearly worried.

"I'll tell them it was a false lead that it was simply a Muggle who resembled Draco."

"Will you be staying tonight?"

"No, I need to return to Malfoy Manor and report to Voldemort before I return to Hogwarts. It seems that your friends are carrying on your tradition of rulebreaking.

Miss Weasley and Mr Longbottom have started up the DA again."

"Really?" Harry was honestly surprised and a bit proud. "How many?"

"From what we can gather, there are nearly forty members." Harry glowed with pride.

"That many?" Ron asked.

"Yes. Miss Weasley is a very good recruit. She's even convinced a few from Slytherin to join."

"Slytherin?!" Harry and Ron shouted at the same time.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Blaise Zabini and Milicent Bulstrode to name two."

"They're not spies are they?" Harry asked fearfully.

"No, it seems not. Minerva and I have been keeping close tabs on the group."

"Thank you," Harry said.

"You're welcome," Snape answered.

* * *

The following morning, Hermione prepared a tray for Draco. Thankfully, Ron was still asleep, otherwise she imagined he would insist of taking the tray up to Draco himself. She knocked quietly on the door and waited for an answer before entering. She found Draco still curled up underneath the covers, shivering from his fever.

"I've brought you something to eat," she announced and placed the tray on the small side table by the bed. "And some potion for your fever as well."

She poured the potion into a cup as Draco pushed himself into a sitting position. His hair stuck up at odd angles and a giggle slipped from Hermione. "Sorry, you're hair, well, it's a bit of a mess."

"Yeah and I smell too. Cheers," he held up the cup in mock salut before swallowing the potion. "Can you find some clothes for me?"

"Of course. I'm sure Harry or Ron have"

"Not Weasley."

"Unfortunately, Ron's more your size but I'll see what I can scrounge up. The loo's on the second level. There are clean towels there."

"Ta, I'll jus' sleep a bit more..." He lay back on the matress and closed his eyes.

Hermione was nearly at the door when he called her name. "Yes?"

"I's alrigh' you know," he slurred sleepily, "you an' weasel. I understan'."

* * *

"How's the ferret boy?" Ron inquired.

Hermione steamed. "His name is Draco and he is still sick, thanks for asking."

"There's a meeting planned for tonight," Harry interrupted before his two friends began arguing.

"Lupin just Flooed. All Order members."

"This is it then?" Hermione asked timidly.

"It won't be long," Harry answered. "The Horcruxes are destroyed and we know where to find Voldemort. We just need to strike."

Hermione took Harry's hand and squeezed.

"It'll be over soon," Harry assured her. She blinked back tears, not wanting to think about Harry facing Voldemort. Ron didn't want to think of it either so he quickly changed the subject.

"What do you think will happen to Malfoy once this is all over?"

"I dunno," Harry shrugged.

"He may get chucked in Azkaban."

"Ronald!" Hermione admonished.

"Come on, Hermione, you need to face the facts! Malfoy helped you, I'll give him that, but he did a hell of a lot before that."

"He's changed."

"You keep saying that but how do you know for sure? I mean, maybe he's just helping so he won't get in trouble?" Hermione shook her head, too tired to argue with him. He surprised her when he took her hand. She looked up and into his blue eyes and saw sincerity there. "I just want you to be prepared, Hermione. I don't want you getting hurt."

Ron's words weighed heavily on Hermione's mind. Later she lay in bed staring into the night through the small window of her temporary room wondering if there could be any truth to what Ron said. She could only suppose there was a chance. The only way to know for certain was with time. She placed a hand on her belly which felt rounder to her. When would she start to show? When would she tell everyone? What would happen?

She decided it would have to wait until after Voldemort's defeat. She wanted nothing to distract Harry or Ron or any of the Order members. She would tell Draco first knowing that she could not expect him to be there. Their night together had been spontaneous and she would not expect him to help if she decided to have or keep the baby. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly, tears leaking down her cheeks, how she longed to talk to someone!

* * *

Healer Bombay smiled warmly. "Everything seems to be fine, Miss Granger. I'd like you to put a bit more weight on, though."

Hermione nodded, knowing the mediwitch would bring that up.

"How are you doing, Miss Granger?"

"Well, I'm doing all right I suppose."

"And the father?"

"He's been ill, actually."

The healer nodded. "It would be nice for him to join you for your next appointment."

"Yes, hopefully he'll be a" a sob appeared from no where. "Ssorry! I don't know where that came from!"

"I suspect hormones may have something to do with it." The woman smiled warmly as she handed Hermione a tissue. "Tell me, Miss Granger, is your mother near by?"

Hermione shook her head, sobbing openly now.

"Have you friends to talk with? Maybe someone who has gone through pregnancy before?"

Mrs Weasley was the first to come to Hermione's mind but she nearly laughed out loud at the thought of speaking to her ex boyfriend's mother about her current situation! She shrugged her shoulders in response.

"You must have support, Miss Granger," Healer Bombay impressed. "This is not something to experience alone and so young! You must take care of your mind as well as your body."

Hermione nodded her head, too teary to say anything.

"Promise me that you will speak to someone close to you when you return home."

Hermione nodded her head, though she was not sure who or when she would get around to fulfilling that promise. She managed to thank the healer and returned to Grimmuald Place.

"Where've you been?!" Ron demanded as soon as she Flooed in. He then noticed her read, swollen eyes. He went to her and placed his hands on her arms. "Hermione? What's wrong? Has something happened?"

She was so touched by his concern and so overwhelmed that she simply burst into tears and threw her arms around his shoulders. Frightened, Ron wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"I-I'm s-so scared!" she sobbed. "I don't want anything to happen to Harry! I don't want to loose you! I don't want anyone to hate m-me!"

"What are you going on about? No one could hate you! You are one of the most decent people I've ever known"

Hermione cried harder at this, guilt plunging into her heart. "And nothing will happen to Harry. He's the Chosen One, he'll kick Voldie's arse and be home in time for tea." At this she managed a laugh. "As for me, I'll always be here for you."

Hermione hugged him closer. "Promise me, Ron. Promise me that no matter what happens, you won't leave me."

"I promise," he whispered.

Draco stood just outside the doorway, having nearly walked in at what was clearly a private moment. Even though he knew she would go back to Ron, it was a shock to see them together. Maybe I just wasn't expecting it to hurt so much, Draco thought. Of course, what could their one night compare to the time that Hermione and Ron had together? He was being selfish. He knew he should be happy for her. He wanted her to be happy, after all. Quietly, he turned and crept back up the stairs so as not to disturb Hermione and Ron.

* * *

Draco stood just outside the doorway, having nearly walked in at what was clearly a private moment.

Even though he knew she would go back to Ron, it was a shock to see them together. He wasn't expecting it too be quite so painful. Of course, what could their one night compare to the time that Hermione and Ron had together? He was being selfish. He knew he should be happy for her. He wanted her to be happy, after all. Quietly, he turned and crept back up the stairs so as not to disturb Hermione and Ron.

The Order of the Phoenix began making plans for the final confrontation of Voldemort. The first part of the plan was to remove as many Death Eaters as possible. Draco, having recovered from his illness and was looking more like himself (despite the borrowed clothes) joined in the sessions and was accepted with little animosity. He was glad to have something to occupy his mind and was able to give detailed information of the layout of Malfoy Manor.

Hermione found it nearly impossible to have a private conversation at Grimmuald Place. Ron had attached himself to her side and although she appreciated his concern for her, she wondered if he was the best person to break down to. She worried that her actions led him to believe she still had romantic feelings for him though he hadn't pressed the issue with her.

Draco appeared reserved around her as well, though she really had little experience to compare to. He seldom made eye contact with her or spoke to her and that caused a pain in her heart. Had he gotten over any feelings he had developed for her? Did he assume that she was with Ron? She knew they had to speak. It was when they were seated at dinner that Hermione took the opportunity. As usual, Ron had seated himself next to her. It seemed that her pregnancy was starting to affect her appetite.

Though she tried to eat as much as possible, often the sight and smell of food made her stomach roll.

It did not help sitting next to Ron whose appetite was legendary.

"You need to eat, Hermione," Ron commented when he noticed that she was only picking at her plate.

She knew he was concerned about her, especially since her little crying episode. She smiled weakly at him and took a small bite.

"You want me to make you something else?" he offered.

"I'm fine," Hermione answered.

He nodded and squeezed her hand which was resting on the table. Draco watched the exchange and suddenly lost his appetite. He excused himself and left the table. Hermione watched him leave and decided it was a good opportunity to catch him alone. She ate a few more bites and then announced she was done.

Draco usually spent his time in his room, unless there was a meeting. He was still not comfortable being around the people he used to mock. Hermione knocked at his door and waited for his response.

She found him laying on his bed, a book in his hand.

"Hello," she greeted him.

He sat up and placed his book aside. It was the first time he was alone with Hermione since she left France.

"How are you?" she asked in way of breaking the awkwardness.

"I'm fine," he answered. "You?"

"Alright," she answered mechanically. Neither of them knew what to say next but Hermione knew she must plug on. "I missed you."

Draco was taken aback. "Me too."

"I was so confused," she continued, "I thought I'd lost Ron and I was so happy when I found out that he was alive but after everything I'd been through with you and then"

she broke down, nervous about telling him.

"It's OK, Hermione, I understand."

"No, I don't think you do," she said. "I don't feel the same way about Ron as I did. I doesn't feel right."

"Oh," Draco was not sure how to respond.

"He doesn't know about us, I haven't told anyone yet. Draco," she became more distressed, "I'm pregnant." She said it so softly that he barely heard the words.

"What?" he asked, stunned.

"Please don't make me say it again," she cried, imploring him with her watery eyes. His heart jumped in his throat and he stood from the bed and embraced her.

"Pregnant?" he whispered. She nodded against his chest. "I'm sorry," he answered feebly, unsure if that was the right thing to say. He had no idea what to think or how to feel at that moment. The news was too unexpected. He could only imagine what she must be feeling. He gathered her in his arms and held her close while she continued to sob.

"Do you regret what happened?" she asked, wanting to know.

"No!" He pulled away and looked into her eyes. "Not at all."

"I don't know what to do..."

"Shh... it will be alright, Hermione. We'll figure this out."

He held her again. She had so many more questions and concerns but for the time, she was content to cry in his arms. It was the best she felt in a long time, telling someone and being comforted. Even though she had many worries, now she felt like she could handle them. He kissed the top of her head.

"I don't want the others to know until after the attack."

"Alright. We'll get through this, Hermione, I promise." He kissed her soundly on the lips and she longed for more but there were too many people in the house that may look for her.

"I'd better leave."

* * *

Hermione woke, the room still dark, the house quiet. She closed her eyes when she heard a knock upon the door. She slipped from her bed and went to see who was there. In the pale light filtering from the street outside, she could see Draco's nearly white hair.

"What is it?" she whispered, concerned.

"May I come in?" he asked in a hushed voice. She stepped aside and closed the door behind him.

"Wha?"

Her question was interrupted by his searing kiss, his hands on her face. She fell into his kiss as easily as she did earlier in the evening, as easily as their first kiss. They finally broke apart to breathe, his hands stayed on her face and his forehead resting on hers.

"Let me stay with you tonight," he whispered.

"I don't know..." She longed to be with him but worried they would be discovered and what the consequences could be.

"I'll leave early in the morning, before anyone wakes. We can put a locking charm on the door, a silencing charm," he grinned at the last bit and kissed her again.

"What if someone checks your room?"

"In the middle of the night? No one is awake!"

She knew it was risky but her heart wanted him. "OK."

He kissed her again and smiled at his victory. He took her hand and lead her back to her bed. She cast a quick locking charm insuring that no one would barge in unannounced on the small chance they would.

"Silencing too," Draco advised and kissed her neck. She gasped and cast a soundproofing spell on the

room. Then he slipped underneath her covers and held them open for her. Once she crawled in beside him her wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She wondered if they would just drift asleep like that. She wouldn't have minded but she would have been a bit disappointed. Luckily, he began to nuzzle her ear.

"I missed you," he whispered in her ear.

"It was so hard to leave you."

"Don't do it again," he pleaded.

She kissed him longingly. His hand caressed her waist and slid beneath the T shirt she wore. His hand stopped on her belly and he broke their kiss to look at her. His hand spread across her belly, feeling its roundness. Hermione felt embarrassment and closeness at the same time. It was too soon for babies, they were too young and yet, what a powerful bond. She smiled shyly at him.

He lifted the shirt above her belly and scooted down so that he was level with her stomach. She closed her eyes as his lips pressed against the skin, his hand against her back. He kissed her belly several times before moving back up to her mouth. His hand moved from her back to her breast and she pressed herself into his hand, slipping her own hands underneath the Puddlemere United Tshirt she had confiscated from Harry's wardrobe.

She pulled the shirt up his torso and Draco sat up, removing the shirt. Hermione followed suit.

Draco's eyes grew wide as she arched her back to pull the clothing up over her head, exposing her beautiful breasts. He leaned down to suckle them causing Hermione to moan loudly. Draco smiled to himself, glad he had suggested the silencing charm.

Hermione managed to remove her top and pulled Draco back up to her lips, anxious to feel his skin against hers again. She wove her legs into his, pressing her pelvis into his, her arms wrapped around him, holding him close to her. She stroked his back and began to push down his pants down his hips.

He reached down to help, still kissing her as he tugged at his clothing, raising his legs to get the clothing off.

He then pulled at Hermione's plain, white kickers, and grabbed her torso so that he could pull her on top of him as he lay back on the mattress. Together they removed the last scrap of clothing and Hermione positioned herself above him, peering into his eyes. Draco tucked a few strands of hair behind her ears and wanted to tell her so much but the words would not come. She was able to read his eyes, and she answered with her own.

They adjusted their bodies until, at last, they became one. They looked into one another's eyes as their bodies moved together. They winced and moaned as their thrusts became more hurried. Hermione began to feel the beginnings of her orgasm approach and she closed her eyes and focused on the sensations. Draco whispered words of encouragement, straining to hold off his own climax. She began to moan and furrowed her brows as her body came. Draco thrust into her harder, his own release imminent. He cried out and held her close to him.

Sated and exhausted, they both relaxed into their embrace, Hermione shifting slightly to Draco's side. She kissed him languidly on his jaw and neck, his wet skin salty. Lazily, he stroked her side and back.

Once their bodies cooled he pulled the blanket over them, kissed her on her forehead and both drifted into a dazed slumber.

* * *

The Order met to review plans and check on progress. Things were moving smoothly and it was decided that the moment was right to strike. They reviewed the layout of the Malfoy Manor with Draco making suggestions. At last, Harry's team was decided upon. The Order insisted that Harry be backed with the most experienced and best and it was also suggested that Harry, Ron and Hermione be separated.

"No way," Ron objected straight off.

"You could be a liability," Lupin tried to explain.

"We're not letting Harry face Voldemort alone!"

"He'll hardly be alone!"

"No, We promised"

"If it's safer..." Harry tried to intervene. In truth, he had requested this but didn't want Ron or Hermione to know. They wouldn't understand.

"We're not leaving your side, Harry," Hermione said defiantly.

"You can't go," Draco interjected.

Hermione and several others turned to him, surprised by his response.

"Of course I'm going," Hermione argued, glaring at Draco not to say any more.

He turned to the others. "She can't go on this mission."

"Why not?" Ron asked, not because he didn't object to Hermione staying safe but because he didn't understand why Draco, of all people, was demanding she not go. What right did he have?

Hermione could only stare at Draco, begging him silent to remain quiet.

"She's Muggleborn,"

Draco explained. "She'll be a prime target."

"He has a point," Harry agreed.

"I'm going! No one can decide what I can or can't do. It's my decision!" she was getting quite upset now. She glared angrily at Draco.

"I agree with Draco, Miss Granger," Shacklebolt concurred, "there's no sense in putting you in danger."

"No, not when you have Harry to sacrifice!" she shouted.

"Hermione"

Harry tried to calm his friend.

"The last thing we want is for anything to happen to Harry," Lupin said.

"So you're worried I'll make a mistake?" She was insulted now.

"Hardly!" Lupin stated.

"You'll be vital as part of another group" Shacklebolt began.

"She can't fight!" Draco shouted and everyone grew quiet.

"Why?" Lupin asked, sensing something.

Draco looked at Hermione who only stared back at him angrily.

"Tell them," he said. Her eyes grew wide. She couldn't believe he was doing this to her! "They're going to find out eventually. I won't let you fight."

"What's going on?" Ron demanded.

"Will you tell me, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Tearfully, Hermione turned to her friend. She looked at him for a moment and then nodded. Harry stood up from his seat and Hermione followed. She looked at Ron and he stood, understanding he'd been invited as well. Draco waited until he got a sign from Hermione before he moved. She turned to him.

"You might as well come," she said.

The four left the rest of the Order members and went to the library on the main level where they were able to close the door and have privacy. Timidly everyone took seats in reserved silence. Hermione took a deep, shaky breath and began to explain.

"I hadn't wanted to tell you like this. I wanted to wait until this was over and I had time to talk to you." She looked to Ron who suddenly felt his stomach fall and blinked back tears of his own. "I thought you died, I thought you had both been killed and I was alone and..." she stumbled a bit over her sobs.

"Did she tell you about what happened there?" Draco asked.

"No, Draco" Hermione started.

"You didn't tell them?" She shook her head.

"What happened? Harry asked timidly.

"That bloody deatheating psycho wanted to find out why some Muggles are magical and others aren't. So he let his twisted Death Eater experiment on her." Ron and Harry gave Hermione horrified looks as Draco continued. "Let him fucking torture her when Bellatrix wasn't playing games with her." Draco broke down at this point, knowing he had participated in that play. He sobbed into his hands. Hermione went to him and comforted him, much to Harry and Ron's confusion.

"I'm so sorry!" Draco cried.

"I know," she said quietly, "I know you didn't want to."

"HE HURT YOU?" Ron roared, standing up from his chair.

"Bellatrix made him!"

"What did he do to you, Hermione?!"

"It doesn't matter, he had to. He didn't want to."

"I couldn't leave her," Draco explained.

"I didn't want to go with him," Hermione continued in a daze, remembering her state of mind back then. "I thought it was over. I thought no one would be able to defeat Voldemort. I didn't want to... I didn't care if I lived. But Draco took me and we made it to France, I don't even remember getting there." She paused for a moment, looking at her lap. "I tried to kill myself," she whispered, so ashamed. Ron and Harry looked at each other; horrified, stunned. "Draco stopped me.'

'And then, well, one day passed and then another. Eventually I got over the depression and wanted to come back and fight even though I wasn't sure there was a chance to win. I wanted to try at least. So I decided to come back to Grimmuald Place." Hermione looked at Draco, unsure of what to say next.

"It was so hard to leave. I didn't think I had anyone left but Draco. We got so close..."

An awkward silence crept over the room. Harry and Ron had suspected the two had become close, maybe even developed feelings now it seemed their intuition had been correct. Both knew there was more to the story. They waited patiently. Hermione wasn't certain how to tell them the news, even now that the time was before her. She decided to be clear.

"I'm pregnant."

Harry was stunned. A strange noise escaped Ron. He turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Hermione winced.

"That's why she can't fight," Harry stated, relieved that she couldn't.

"Harry" Hermione began.

"No." He would not discuss it.

Harry and Draco returned to the kitchen and Hermione went to find Ron. He was in the room he shared with Harry sitting on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. She sat down next to him.

"I'm so sorry, Ron," she said.

"I guess it was fate."

"I don't know."

"You know, when we started dating, sometimes I worried that it would ruin our friendship if things didn't work out between us."

"Yeah, me too. I'd hate to loose you, Ron."

"I don't want to loose you either."

"Can we be friends?"

"It'll take me some time."

"I know." They sat quietly for a moment before she spoke again. "Promise me that you won't do anything stupid when you go after Voldemort."

"Me?" he cracked a smile.

"I couldn't bear losing you again," she sobbed.

Ron gave her a hug. "I promise. Someone's gotta watch Harry's back, right?"


	9. Chapter 9

"That's ridiculous!" Draco shouted. Moody had just delivered the news that Draco would not be joining the raid that evening at the manor. "That bastard killed my mother! He nearly killed me! I know the manor better than anyone!"

"What if you're faced with your father? Did'ya think of that?" Draco was silenced, caught off guard. What would he do? He wondered if his father would try to kill him. "There's too much risk for you to be there. You'd be a prime target"

"I thought Potter was the prime target."

"Don't be smart! You're too close to this! Besides, someone will need to stay here and make sure Hermione stays put."

Draco wondered how much Moody knew about their situation but didn't press the matter. He agreed with this point. Hermione was stubborn and didn't like the idea of staying behind while her best friends faced Voldemort. He understood her desire to be there by Harry's side but there was no way Harry, Ron or Draco would let her go anywhere near the danger.

There were several Order members at the house preping for the raid. Tension was incredibly high and no one spoke much. Moody had pulled Draco aside to deliver the news and then rejoined the others in the kitchen where Shacklebolt was reviewing the plans. Draco watched Hermione as she sat between Harry and Ron. She clutched Harry's hand and Draco understood.

Too soon they were preparing to depart in their various groups. They were to Apparate inside the manor at the same time at various points. At least, if Snape was unable to dismantle the wards in time.

It was nearly time for the groups to depart. Hermione gave everyone hugs, trying valiantly to hold back tears. She clung to Harry and Ron together and the three of them held each other for a long time.

Moody was the one to break it up so that the teams could be on time.

Draco went to Ron and quietly wished him luck. Ron accepted with shock on his face. "If you see Mangela," Draco added, "Hex him for me, would you?" Ron smiled and nodded. Draco then went to Harry and offered his hand. "Wish I could be there when you when you kill the bastard," he said.

Then, one by one, the groups left. The popping sounds of Apparation seemed to echo in the kitchen and then suddenly, there was silence. Hermione turned to Draco, crying quietly. He took her in his arms and whispered words of reassurance, even though his own mind filled with worry. There was nothing for them to do but wait.

* * *

Hermione had finally fallen asleep, curled in Draco's arms. It had taken her a long time to fall asleep and she refused to take any sleeping draught, unsure it might harm the baby. Draco woke suddenly, sensing something was off and listening carefully. Had the others returned already?

Carefully, he removed himself from Hermione and slipped from the bed. Taking his wand from the night stand, he headed to the door and stepped out into the hall, the floor creaked underneath his bare feet. He cast a complex locking charm on the door behind him. The hall was nearly pitch save for the weak light from the street lamps outside. Stealthily, he climbed down the stair case, his ears alert for any sounds and his wand poised to strike if needed.

Halfway down the steps he saw a shadow move below, his grip tightened on his wand. Breathing heavily, his heart pounding, he moved in the direction of the shadow. Suddenly, his wand was pulled from his hand as if someone had grabbed it and the soft glow of Lumous filled the room. He found himself face to face with his father.

It was the first time Draco had laid eyes on his father since he was sent to Azkaban. He hardly recognized the man; gone was the imposing figure, the long, blond hair and the immaculate clothing.

Before him stood a man who had aged a decade in the last year; his hair dull and thin, his clothing hung sloppily and there was a demented look in his eyes. Draco had never been frightened of his father until that moment.

"They told me you ran," Lucius sneered, his voice raspy, "hiding like some dog with its tail between its legs. That you had taken the mudblood with you and then joined them!" His once handsome face contorted with disgust. Draco didn't speak; it was clear that there could be no reasoning with the man, his father's fury came off of him in waves, magical sparks ignited in the air. "I didn't believe them. I had to see with my own eyes," Lucius continued, his voice was quiet and dangerous, "and here you are, just as they said."

"Father"

"You are no son of mine!" Lucius's raged, aiming his wand at Draco.

Fear froze Draco. There was no escape, his father would curse him and he would never see Hermione again or hold their baby. There was movement behind him and both he and his father turned at the sound and found Hermione standing in the doorway. Draco moved to stand before her. Lucius looked back at his son, his precious, pureblood heir, who now stood before a mudblood, protecting her! His fury peaked and he shouted the cruciatus curse. At once; a flash of green and Draco fell to the ground with a powerful force.

And then, laughter, hysterical. Draco blinked in confusion. Had his father missed? He looked up and saw the madness of Lucius Malfoy then turned to check on Hermione. His blood froze; she lay in a heap on the floor, blood trickling down her forehead. He understood instantly that she had pushed him away from Lucius's curse and had been struck herself. Lucius was so tickled at the turn of events that he couldn't stop laughing.

"NO!" Draco shouted.

He pushed himself from the floor and rushed at his father, slamming them both to the hard wood floor. Lucius's skull struck the ground with such force that it cracked upon impact. Draco lay there for a moment, in shock, as a crimson pool spread under his father's head, his clear grey eyes staring at the ceiling. Draco pushed himself off his father's body and crawled over to where Hermione lay.

"Oh, Merlin," he sobbed, "I'm so sorry."

He cradled her limp body in his arms as he cried. For a moment he sat there in the darkness, rocking her back and forth. At last, he stood, Hermione in his arms, carried her to the kitchen and stepped into the Floo.

* * *

The lobby of St Mungo's was full. Draco emerged from the hearth in his bare feet with Hermione in his arms into the crowd of people waiting to be seen. Silence spread through the people as one by one they recognised the handsome young man and the famous witch in his arms. Whispers floated throughout the room. Draco ignored them as he carried Hermione to a healer. The young man dressed in lime green stood silently, his mouth open in shock, as Draco approached.

"This is Hermione Granger," Draco's voice was rough, "she's been struck by the cruciatus curse."

Draco was questioned by two Ministry officials about the events that evening. The officials grew frustrated with Draco's lack of cooperation. He wasn't even able to name the location of the attack.

"How inconvenient for you," one remarked, "not being able to tell us where the alleged attack took place."

Draco did not respond to the man's sarcasm. He was in shock; having lost his unborn child and his father whom he had killed with his own rage. It was too much for him to deal with and he cared little about the inconvenience of it. He didn't care for anything at the moment.

"It doesn't look very good," a second official spoke. "There's no way for us to check your story. Maybe it's not true. Maybe you attacked Ms. Granger with the curse?'

A tear fell down Draco's cheek but he didn't say anything. What did it matter? he thought. It should have been him, not Hermione and their unborn child. The curse was meant for him.

"Take him away," the second official ordered the first.

Draco didn't react as the man pulled him to his feet and led him away. The official returned minutes later and sat down at the table with the other.

"Why bring the girl to St Mungo's if he'd done it?"

"Guilt?"

"I don't know, possibly. The boy looks like he's in shock."

"Killing someone will do that to a person."

"He admitted to killing his father but I don't believe he attacked the girl."

"All we have is his word."

Draco sat in the corner of a small cell, images of Hermione laying lifeless on the floor in his head. Hermione had so much more to live for; friends, family, a bright future, a child on the way... He closed his eyes and escaped into sleep.

* * *

"Draco?" He looked up and found Tonks standing outside the cell, concern etched on her face. "I've come to get you."

One of the Ministry officials unlocked the cell but Draco didn't move from the bench. Tonks entered and sat down beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders. "I'm so sorry."

"Am I going to Azkaban?" he asked.

"What? No!" She kissed his temple and hugged him closer. "Come on, let's get you to St Mungo's."

"I'm not hurt," he mumbled. The last thing he wanted to do was to return to St Mungo's.

"You're in shock," Tonks said, "you should see a healer."

She coaxed him up, her arm around his shoulders as they headed to one of the Ministry's Floos. Draco was relieved to find very few people in the lobby of the wizarding hospital this time round. A junior healer collected him shortly and took him to an examination room where he checked his vitals.

"You'll be alright," the young man informed him cheerily, "but we'll keep you here over night for observation."

There was a knock at the door and Healer Bombay entered, her long, dark plait over her shoulder. The junior healer went over Draco's file with her before leaving. The woman approached Draco and smiled warmly and introduced herself.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. The mediwitch reviewed his files.

"Everything looks fine. We'll keep you here overnight and then you can return home."

Home? Where is home? he wondered.

"Would you like to see Miss Granger?" He didn't answer right away, unsure he could face her lifeless body again. Would he regret not saying goodbye?

"She's been asking for you," Healer Bombay continued.

Draco looked at the woman, confused.

"I'm sorry, didn't anyone inform you? Miss Granger will be fine."

"How?" he barely choked the word out.

"We think because she was not the intended target combined with the fact that the curse wasn't strong enough. It's difficult for a father to harm his child, even in a fit of rage."

Draco was speechless.

"I'm afraid we weren't able to save the baby," she added softly.

A sharp pain pierced his chest and he blinked away tears.

"Shall I show you to her room?" Draco nodded and followed the woman. She stopped by a door and turned to him. "They've set up a bed for you so that you can share the room."

He nodded, absent mindedly, anxious to go inside and see if it was really true. Healer Bombay smiled and walked away, heading back the direction they had come from. Draco found Hermione asleep, her eyes lids fluttering, her chest slowly rising and falling with each breath. A relieved sob escaped him.

He went to her bedside, took her hand and kissed it. Her eyes fluttered and then opened . She smiled up at him sleepily.

"Hello." Her voice was weak.

"How do you feel?" he whispered, his thumb stroking her hand.

"Alright." She paused for a moment and then spoke again. "We- we lost the baby, Draco."

"I know. I'm sorry."

A tear leaked from her eye and trickled down her cheek. "I didn't think I'd gotten that attached to it," she explained.

He didn't know what to say so he gave her a kiss on the lips.

"Don't go," she whispered sleepily.

"I'm not. I'll be right here," he assured her and kissed her on the forehead before moving to the spare bed next to hers. He was almost afraid to sleep, afraid that when he woke he would discover this had been a dream and he would still be in the cell at the Ministry. He turned on his side so that he could see Hermione sleeping, listening to her soft breathing, his eyes closed and soon he had fallen asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Epilogue:**

Mrs Weasley futzed about the kitchen of the Burrow, Ginny and Tonks helping. However, too many cooks, as they say... besides, Tonk's large, pregnant belly kept getting in her way and making her even more prone to knocking things over. Molly finally smiled and insisted that she sit down and rest.

Tonks joined Fluer at the table and the lovely blond placed her delicate hands upon Tonks' belly, smiling at the movement under them. Bill chatted with Moody in a corner of the kitchen. In the den, Arthur, Charlie, Remus, and Kingsley talked in one corner of the crowded room. In another corner, Ron, Fred, George, Neville Longbottom were chatting and laughing.

The Floo activated and Hermione Granger emerged with her parents. Molly greeted them warmly and called for her husband. Hermione introduced her parents to the various people sitting in the kitchen before Arthur came in welcoming them enthusiasically and dragged them off to the den. Hermione followed, greeting everyone with kisses. She and Ron shared a special embrace; their friendship strong.

The smell of food and the sound of conversation filled the small home nearly to the point of bursting and there were still more guests to arrive. People began to overflow into the Weasley's yard.

Thankfully, summer was in the air. The gathering was to celebrate the defeat of Voldemort which had been postponed due to Harry's stay at St Mungo's. Ginny had planned the menu which consisted of his favourite dishes of Molly's. Ginny hadn't the talent of her mother for cooking, but she followed instructions well. After making rounds, Hermione returned to the kitchen to help.

Once more the Floo lit with vibrant green flames. Hermione hardly noticed but for a slight change in the atmosphere and a hush over the conversation in the kitchen. She turned to find Draco emerge alongside Harry. Draco had offered to accompany Harry from St Mungo's. Besides, it made him feel less awkward than if he arrived alone. Hermione's heart was filled with such happiness it seemed to press against her chest. Chaos erupted as people welcomed the guest of honour.

Ginny forced her way through the throngs. "Out of the way!" she shouted, "girlfriend coming through!"

Draco chuckled as he made room so that Harry could receive the attention he deserved and had waited for for so long. He searched for Hermione in the crowd, spotting her at last. She was waiting patiently off to the side and smiled as Draco approached. They were both glad most everyone's attention was diverted to Harry.

"Hello," Draco greeted simply, smiling.

"Hello," she returned.

"Are your parents here?"

"Somewhere!"

"How're they?"

"Good. We had a nice time in Australia."

"I missed you."

"Me too."

He gave her a kiss and then took her hand. They waited as the crowd thinned and Hermione was able to welcome Harry home. She hugged him tightly, like a brother she nearly lost. Mrs Weasley approached the group and told them the food was ready.

"Thank Merlin," Harry said, "I'm famished!"

"Mrs Weasley is an excellent cook," Hermione said to Draco.

Ron arrived with a plate full of food and was already tucking in.

"Ron!" Ginny cried, "you could at least wait for the guest of honour!"

"Yeah, well, he hasn't been tortured all day by smelling Mum's cooking," he explained with a mouth full of food.

Some time later, the group was seated on the front lawn, sated by loads of delicious food beneath a starfilled sky. A moment of silent reverie befell them though sounds from the rest of the party inside the house filtered out into the night. Harry sat back with Ginny huddled between his knees, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood were laying on their backs mesmerized by the constellations they had been discussing, Ron watched Padma Patil chat with some other guests and recalled their humiliating date in fourth year. He wondered if she'd go out with him again.

"Excuse me," he mumbled and got up before he lost his nerve to ask her.

Hermione and Draco sat side by side, hands held. There had been so much going on after the final battle that the two had hardly seen each other in the past month; Hermione's recovery, Ministry charges against Draco (dropped in light of recent actions), Lucius's funeral, Hermione's trip to Australia to retrieve her parents, Draco's return to Malfoy Manor to begin to sort out the estate he inherited. Their time together in France seemed so long ago.

"Want to go for a walk?" Hermione suggested.

Draco nodded and they headed to the Weasley's garden.

"I was wondering," Draco said, "if you'd like to come over some time?"

Hermione smiled. "That would be nice."

"How about tonight?" he grinned.

"I'd like that."

"Really? What about your parents?"

"I'll tell them I'm staying at the Burrow."

"Excellent," he turned to kiss her properly. After a long moment, he broke away and whispered,

"When can we leave?"

~The End~

**A/N:** Please tell me what you think of the story. There are certain aspects that I would like to change. Also I felt the ending was a bit anticlimactic as well. Any suggestions? :)


End file.
